FRANK 
MEEEIWELL'S 


THE  LIBRARY 
OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 

IN  MEMORY  OF 
EDWIN  CORLE 

PRESENTED  BY 
JEAN  CORLE 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S 
RACES 


BURT  L.  STANDISH 

AUTHOR  OF 

"Frank   Merriwell's  Schooldays,"  "Frank   Merriwell's  Trip  West," 
"Frank  Merriwell's  Chums,"  "Frank  Merriwell's  Foes,"  etc. 


Copyright,  1903 
By  STREET  &  SMITH 

Frank  Merriwell's  Raccc 


FRANK  MERRIWELL'S  RACES 


CHAPTER  I. 

HORSE     TALK. 

"He's  a  beauty!" 

Jack  Diamond  uttered  the  exclamation.  He  was 
admiring  a  horse  Frank  Merriwell  had  lately  pur- 
chased. 

"He  is,"  agreed  Danny  Griswold,  with  his  hands 
thrust  deep  into  his  trousers  pockets  and  his  short  legs 
set  far  apart.  "But  think  of  paying  a  thousand  dol- 
lars!" 

"He  looks  like  a  racer,"  declared  Bruce  Browning, 
who  showed  unusual  interest  and  animation  for  a  fel- 
low who  was  known  as  the  laziest  man  at  Yale. 

"He's  got  the  marks  of  a  swift  one,"  asserted  Dia- 
mond, walking  around  the  bay  gelding,  which  Frank 
Merriwell  had  led  out  into  the  middle  of  the  stable 


2035364 


8  Horse  Talk. 

floor  for  inspection.  "He  is  rangey,  has  clean  limb*, 
and  a  courageous  eye.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  he  could 
cover  ground  in  a  hurry." 

"I  did  not  buy  him  for  a  racer,"  asserted  Frank. 
"I  purchased  him  as  a  saddle  horse  purely  for  my  own 
use  and  pleasure." 

"You  must  have  money  to  burn,"  chirped  Griswold. 
"Your  old  man  must  have  made  loads  of  it.  I  had 
an  uncle  four  times  removed  once  who  made  money, 
but  he  got  arrested  when  he  tried  to  pass  it." 

"That  reminds  me  of  my  father  and  his  partner," 
said  Browning,  with  apparent  seriousness.  "They 
formed  a  strange  sort  of  a  partnership.  One  of  them 
stayed  in  New  York  all  the  time,  while  the  other  re- 
mained in  California.  In  this  manner  they  managed 
always  to  have  plenty  of  money  between  them." 

"Oh,  goodness!"  gasped  Diamond,  "if  you  fellows 
keep  this  up,  I  shall  want  to  get  away." 

"If  you  want  to  get  a  weigh,  we'll  try  to  find  some 
scales  for  you,"  chuckled  Griswold,  his  eyes  twinkling. 

"They  say  Dan  Dorman's  father  has  plenty  of 
money,"  said  Frank. 

"I've  heard  so,"  admitted  Browning.     "But  Dor- 


Horse  Talk.  9 

man  is  too  mean  to  make  much  of  a  drain  on  the  old 
man's  pile." 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Griswold.  "Why,  he  is 
so  mean  that  in  the  winter,  when  his  hair  gets  long, 
he  wets  it  thoroughly,  and  then  goes  out  in  the  open 
air  and  lets  it  freeze." 

"What  does  he  do  that  for?" 

"So  he  can  break  it  off  and  save  the  price  of  a  hair- 
cut!" 

"Say,"  cried  Diamond,  desperately,  "I  thought  you 
fellows  were  talking  about  a  horse !" 

"No,"  yawned  Browning,  "we're  talking  about  a 
jackass." 

Every  one  but  Jack  seemed  to  appreciate  this,  for 
they  all  grinned. 

"Well,"  said  the  lad  from  Virginia,  "Merriwell  has 
brought  out  his  horse  for  us  to  inspect,  and  I  move  we 
do  so.  After  this  is  over,  you  may  talk  of  anything 
you  please." 

"It  is  rather  remarkable  that  you  should  pay  such  a 
price  for  a  mere  saddle  horse,"  declared  Browning. 

"I  simply  kept  my  promise,"  smiled  Frank. 

"Your  promise?" 


io  Horse  Talk. 

"Exactly." 

"What  promise?" 

"The  one  I  made  to  myself  when  this  horse  enabled 
me  to  overtake  a  runaway  that  was  dragging  Wini- 
fred Lee  to  danger  and  possible  death.  This  is  the  ani- 
mal on  which  I  pursued  the  runaway,  and  I  took  him 
without  asking  leave  of  the  owner.  I  vowed  that  if 
this  horse  enabled  me  to  to  catch  and  stop  the  runaway 
before  Miss  Lee  was  harmed  I  would  own  the  creature 
if  it  took  my  last  dollar,"  he  added. 

"And  that,"  cried  Griswold,  trying  to  strike  a  dra- 
matic attitude — "that  is  true  love!" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  as  I  blame  you,  Merriwell," 
admitted  Bruce.  "Winifred  Lee  is  a  stunning  girl. 
But  it  strikes  me  that  the  owner  of  the  horse  swindled 
you." 

A  bit  of  additional  color  had  risen  to  Frank's  cheeks, 
and  he  looked  strikingly  handsome.  The  boys  knew 
it  would  not  do  to  carry  the  joke  about  Winnie  Lee 
too  far,  and  so  they  refrained. 

"The  man  who  owned  the  horse  did  not  want  to  sell 
him  at  any  price,"  explained  Frank.  "I  induced  him 


Horse  Talk,  n 

to  set  a  price  that  he  thought  would  settle  me,  and  then 
I  snapped  him  up  so  quickly  it  took  away  his  breath/* 

"I  should  think  your  guardian  would  have  kicked  at 
throwing  up  a  thousand  for  such  a  purpose." 

"He  did,"  laughed  Frank,  looking  at  Diamond,  who 
showed  a  little  confusion.  "You  remember  that  Jack, 
Rattleton  and  myself  went  on  to  Springfield  to  meet 
him  a  few  days  ago?" 

"And  got  arrested  for  kidnaping  a  baby!"  chuckled 
Griswold.  "That  was  a  corker.  We  didn't  do  a 
thing  to  you  fellows  when  you  got  back  here !" 

"That's  right,"  admitted  Jack,  dolefully.  "Not  a 
thing!  You  simply  marched  us  through  the  streets 
and  onto  the  campus  with  a  band  and  banners  and  made 
a  stunning  show  of  us !" 

"Well,"  said  Frank,  "Professor  Scotch,  my  guard- 
ian, was  so  glad  to  get  out  of  the  scrape  when  the 
judge  discharged  us  that  he  gave  up  the  thousand  with- 
out a  flutter.  That's  how  I  got  the  money." 

"Well,"  yawned  Browning,  "now  you  have  the 
horse,  you'll  find  him  an  expensive  piece  of  furniture. 
It  takes  money  to  take  care  of  'em  and  feed  'em." 

Diamond  had  been  inspecting  the  gelding  from  all 


12  Horse  Talk. 

sides,  surveying  him  with  the  air  of  one  who  knows 
something  about  horses,  and  he  now  asked : 

"Has  the  creature  a  pedigree,  old  man?" 

"Sure,"  nodded  Frank.  "Its  pedigree  is  all  right. 
I  have  it  somewhere,  but  I  don't  care  so  much  for 
that" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!  It  may  prove  of  value  to  you 
some  day." 

"How?" 

"Well,  you  may  take  a  fancy  to  enter  Nemo  in  a 
race  or  two." 

"What  then?" 

"If  he  should  win,  you'll  want  his  pedigree." 

"I  suppose  that  is  right,  but  I  am  no  sportsman  of 
the  turf;  that  is  professional.  Amateur  sports  are 
good  enough  for  me." 

"Honest  horse  racing  is  one  of  the  grandest  sports 
in  the  world!"  cried  Jack,  with  flashing  eyes. 

"Honest  horse  racing !"  laughed  Griswold.  "What's 
that?  Where  do  you  find  anything  like  that?" 

"Oh,  there  is  such  a  thing." 

"There  may  be,  but  people  are  not  used  to  it." 

"That's  why  I  do  not  think  much  of  horse  racing," 


Horse  Talk.  13 

declared  Frank.  "There  are  too  many  tricks  to  it  to 
suit  me." 

"Oh,  there  are  tricks  to  any  sort  of  sport." 

"Very  few  to  college  sports.  If  a  man  is  caught  at 
anything  crooked  it  means  ruin  for  his  college  career, 
and  he  is  sure  to  carry  the  stigma  through  life.  I  tell 
you  college  sports  are  honest,  and  that  is  why  they  are 
so  favored  by  people  of  taste  and  refinement — people 
who  care  little  or  nothing  for  professional  sports.  The 
public  sees  the  earnestness,  the  honesty,  and  the  man- 
hood in  college  sports  and  contests,  and  the  patrons  of 
such  sports  know  they  are  not  being  done  out  of  their 
money  by  a  fake.  Prize  fighting  in  itself  is  not  so 
bad,  but  the  class  of  men  who  follow  it  have  brought 
disgrace  and  disrepute  upon  it.  Fights  are  'fixed'  in 
advance  by  these  dishonest  scoundrels,  and  the  man 
who  backs  his  judgment  with  his  money  is  likely  to  be 
done  out  of  his  coin  by  the  dirtiest  kind  of  a  deal." 

"What  makes  me  sore,"  said  Diamond,  "is  that  some 
sensational  newspapers  should  send  professional  bruis- 
ers to  witness  our  college  football  games  and  denounce 
them  as  more  brutal  than  prize  fights." 

"That  makes  me  a  trifle  warm  under  the  collar," 


14  Horse  Talk. 

admitted  Browning.  "But  I  don't  suppose  we  should 
mind  what  that  class  of  papers  say.  Their  motto  is 
'Anything  for  a  sensation/  and  the  intelligent  portion 
of  the  newspaper  readers  is  onto  them.  These  papers 
have  faked  so  many  things  that  they  carry  no  weight 
when  they  do  tell  the  truth." 

"I  wouldn't  mind  putting  Nemo  into  a  race  just  to 
see  what  sort  of  stuff  there  is  in  him,"  admitted  Frank. 

"Why  don't  you  do  it?"  cried  Diamond,  eagerly. 

"I  wouldn't  want  to  enter  him  in  any  of  the  races 
around  here." 

"Take  him  to  New  York." 

"No ;  those  races  are  beyond  my  limit.  All  I  want 
to  do  is  try  him  for  my  own  satisfaction." 

"Then  run  him  into  the  Mystic  Park  races  at  Beth- 
any. You  can  do  that  quietly  enough." 

"That's  so,"  said  Browning.  "You  can  do  that 
without  attracting  too  much  attention  to  yourself." 

"We'll  all  go  up  and  see  the  race,"  declared  Gris- 
wold.  "It  will  be  great  sport.  Do  it,  old  man !" 

"But  where  can  I  get  a  jockey  I  can  trust?" 

"You'll  have  to  scrub  around  for  one,  and  take 
chances." 


Horse  Talk.  15 

"No!"  cried  Merriwell,  as  a  sudden  thought  struck 
him.  "I  can  do  better  than  that." 

"How?" 

"I  have  the  fellow." 

"Who?" 

"A  colored  boy  at  home.     He  is  fond  of  horses." 

"Has  he  ever  ridden  in  a  race?" 

"Twice." 

"Did  he  win?" 

"Once.  My  uncle,  who  kindly  left  me  his  fortune, 
was  a  crank  on  fast  horses,  and  he  owned  a  number 
of  them.  Toots  could  ride  some  of  them  that  would 
allow  nobody  else  to  mount  them.  Uncle  Asher  had 
horses  in  the  races  every  year,  but  he  was  often  'done' 
by  his  jockeys.  He  knew  it  well  enough,  but  he  found 
it  impossible  to  get  the  sort  of  jockey  he  wanted. 
Toots  begged  to  ride  a  race,  but  he  was  a  little  shaver, 
and  uncle  was  afraid.  Finally,  one  day,  just  before  a 
race  was  to  come  off,  Uncle  Asher  discovered  that  his 
jockey  had  sold  out.  At  the  last  moment  he  fired  the 
fellow,  and  was  forced  to  let  Toots  ride,  or  withdraw 
his  horse.  Toots  rode,  and  won.  The  next  time  he 
rode  he  might  have  won,  but  the  horse  was  doped." 


1 6  Horse  Talk. 

"He's  just  the  chap  you  want!"  nodded  Jack,  with 
satisfaction.  "Put  Nemo  into  the  Bethany  races,  and 
let  Toots  ride  him." 

"I'll  think  of  it,"  said  Frank. 

A  hostler  approached  the  group. 

"Howdy  do,  Mr.  Merriwell,  sir  ?"  he  said.  "One  of 
your  friends  called  to  see  your  horse  this  morning, 
sir." 

"One  of  my  friends?"  cried  Frank,  in  surprise. 
"Who  was  it?" 

"He  gave  his  name  as  Diamond,  sir — Jack  Dia- 
mond." 

Merriwell  immediately  turned  on  Jack  and  asked: 

"Hello,  how  about  this?  Did  you  call  to  see  Nemo 
this  morning?" 

"Not  much!"  exclaimed  Jack.  "This  is  the  first 
time  I  have  been  here.  The  hostler  is  mistaken." 

"You  must  have  misunderstood  your  visitor,  Grody," 
said  Frank.  "He  could  not  have  given  his  name  as 
Jack  Diamond,  for  this  is  Jack  Diamond  here." 

The  man  stared  at  Jack,  and  then  shook  his  head. 

"That's  not  the  feller,"  he  declared. 


Horse  Talk.  17 

"Of  course  not.  Your  visitor  must  have  given  you 
some  other  name." 

"Not  on  your  life,"  returned  Grody,  promptly.  "He 
said  his  name  was  Jack  Diamond,  sir,  and  I  will  swear 
to  that." 

"Well,  this  is  somewhat  interesting!"  came  grimly 
from  Frank.  "What  did  he  do,  Grody?" 

"He  looked  Nemo  over,  sir." 

"Looked  Nemo  over  how — in  what  way?" 

"Why,  I  offered  to  take  Nemo  out  of  the  stall,  but 
he  said  no,  not  to  bother,  as  he  only  wished  to  glance 
at  the  horse.  He  went  to  the  stall,  which  same  I 
showed  him,  and  looked  in.  The  door  wasn't  locked, 
for  I  had  just  been  cleanin'  the  stall  out.  He  opened 
the  door  and  stood  there  some  little  time.  First  thing 
I  knew  he  was  gone.  I  went  and  looked  into  the  stall, 
and  he  was  examinin'  Nemo's  feet.  He  seemed  won- 
derful interested  in  the  horse,  and  I  saw  by  the  way 
he  acted  he  knew  something  about  horses." 

"The  interest  deepens,"  observed  Frank.  "Go  on, 
Grody." 

"When  he  came  out  of  the  stall  he  says  to  me,  says 
he,  'Merriwell  has  struck  a  right  good  piece  of  horse- 


1 8  Horse  Talk. 

flesh  there.'  Says  I,  'In  the  best  of  my  judgment  he 
has,  sir.'  Says  he,  'I  understand  he  paid  a  fancy  fig- 
ure for  the  gelding,  something  like  a  thousand,  he  told 
me.'  Says  I,  'If  he  told  you  that  I  have  no  doubt  he 
told  you  correct,  sir.'  Then  says  he,  'Does  he  mean  to 
race  him?'  'That,'  says  I,  'bein'  a  friend  of  Mr.  Mer- 
riwell,  is  something  what  you  should  know  as  well  as 
I,  or  better.'  Then  he  says,  says  he,  'Horses  is  mighty 
uncertain  property,  for  you  never  can  tell  what  may 
happen  to  them.  In  this  I  agreed  with  him,  but  there 
was  something  about  him  I  didn't  like  much.  Then  he 
went  away." 

Frank  whistled. 

"This  is  highly  interesting,"  exclaimed  Frank. 
"What  did  this  fellow  look  like,  Grody  ?  Can  you  de- 
scribe him?" 

"Well,  I  looked  him  over  rather  careful  like,  sir, 
but  I  don't  know  as  I  can  describe  him  particular,  ex- 
cept that  he  had  on  a  checked  suit  and  wore  a  red  neck- 
tie, in  which  were  a  blazer,  genuine,  or  to  the  contrary. 
I  know  horses,  but  I'm  no  judge  of  diamonds.  He 
was  smooth  shaved,  and  his  jaw  were  rather  square 
and  his  hair  short.  The  eyes  of  him  never  looked 


Horse  Talk.  19 

straight  at  me  once.  Somehow  I  didn't  think  he  were 
a  student,  for  he  made  one  or  two  breaks  in  the  words 
he  said  that  made  his  talk  different  from  your  stu- 
dent's. He  didn't  have  that  sort  of  real  gentleman  way 
with  him  neither." 

Frank  turned  to  his  friends. 

"Now  what  do  you  suppose  this  business  means, 
fellows  ?"  he  asked. 

"It  means  crookedness!"  declared  Diamond,  rather 
excitedly.  "I  am  dead  sure  of  that !" 

"It  looks  that  way,"  admitted  Browning. 

"But  what  sort  of  crookedness  can  it  mean?"  asked 
Frank,  bewildered.  "What  is  the  game?" 

"That  will  develop  later;  but  there  is  some  kind  of 
a  game  on,  be  sure  of  that/'  asserted  Jack.  "If  not, 
why  should  anybody  come  here  and  give  a  fictitious 
name?  That  gives  the  whole  thing  away.  Look 
out,  Frank,  all  your  enemies  are  not  sleeping!" 

"Well,  it  is  time  they  let  up  on  me,"  said  Merri- 
well,  seriously.  "They  have  brought  nothing  but  dis- 
aster and  disgrace  on  themselves  thus  far,  and " 

"Some  of  them  are  looking  for  revenge,  mark  what 
I  say." 


2O  Horse  Talk. 

"I  am  tired  of  being  bothered  and  harassed  by  petty 
enemies!"  exclaimed  Frank.  "I  have  had  consider- 
able patience  with  the  fellows  who  have  worked  against 
me,  but  there  is  a  limit." 

"That's  right,  and  they  would  have  reached  the  limit 
with  me  long  ago,"  declared  Diamond. 

"Well,  it  is  like  this,  Jack,"  said  Frank;  "it  is  al- 
most always  true  that  not  all  of  a  man's  enemies  are 
bad  fellows.  To  begin  with,  you  remember  that  you 
were  my  enemy,  and  now  we  are  friends,  and  this  is 
not  the  first  time  such  a  thing  has  happened  with  me." 

"Well,  if  a  man  were  bucking  against  me,  I  do  not 
think  I  would  wait  to  see  how  he  would  turn  out  be- 
fore I  bucked  back." 

"Oh,  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  doing  that.  You 
will  remember  that  I  bucked  back  pretty  hard  in  your 
case." 

Jack  did  remember  it,  and  he  felt  that  Merriwell  was 
capable  of  holding  his  own  with  his  foes. 

"You  will  do  well  to  look  out  for  your  horse,  all  the 
same,"  said  Diamond. 

"That's  right,"  grunted  Browning.  "If  I  were  in 
your  place,  Merriwell,  I'd  watch  out  pretty  sharp." 


Horse  Talk.  21 

"I  will,"  said  Frank.  "I'll  have  Toots  come  on 
here  and  keep  watch  over  Nemo  most  of  the  time. 
When  he  is  not  here,  Grody  can  take  his  place.  If  I 
nave  an  enemy  who  thinks  of  stealing  my  horse,  he'll 
have  hard  work  to  accomplish  his  design." 

"Unless  he  does  it  before  you  get  things  arranged," 
said  Griswold.  "Put  him  up,  Merriwell,  and  let's 
get  out." 

"I  am  going  for  a  ride,"  said  Frank.  "Put  the  sad- 
dle on  him,  Grogan.  Will  see  you  later,  fellows,  if 
you  are  going  now." 

"We'll  wait  till  you  leave,"  yawned  Browning. 
"There's  no  reason  why  we  should  tear  our  clothes 
hurrying  away." 

"You  are  not  liable  to  tear  your  clothes  doing  any- 
thing," laughed  Frank. 


CHAPTER  II. 

AN   ADVENTURE  ON   THE   ROAD. 

Grody  soon  had  Nemo  saddled  and  bridled.  The 
horse  was  eager  to  be  away,  as  he  showed  by  his  toss- 
ing head,  fluttering  nostrils  and  restless  feet. 

"Whoa,  boy,"  said  Frank,  soothingly.  "Don't  be 
so  impatient.  We'll  get  away  in  a  moment." 

He  swung  into  the  saddle,  the  stable  doors  rolled 
open,  and  away  sprang  the  gelding. 

The  remaining  lads  hurried  out  of  the  stable  to 
watch  Frank  ride,  Grody  accompanying  them. 

"He  seems  like  he  were  a  part  of  the  horse,"  de- 
clared the  hostler,  admiringly.  "That  young  gentle- 
man were  born  to  handle  horses,  he  were." 

"He  is,  indeed,  a  graceful  rider,"  nodded  Diamond. 
"I  am  sure  he  did  not  learn  in  any  riding  academy,  for 
he  rides  naturally.  The  riding  academies  all  turn  out 
riders  with  an  artificial  and  wooden  style.  There  is 
no  more  distressing  sight  than  the  riders  to  be  seen  in 
Central  Park,  New  York,  almost  any  afternoon.  They 


An  Adventure  on  the  Road.  23 

bounce  around  in  the  saddle  like  a  lot  of  wooden  fig- 
ures, and  it  is  plain  enough  that  many  of  them  do  not 
bounce  because  they  want  to,  but  because  they  think  it 
the  proper  thing.  Southerners  ride  naturally  and 
gracefully.  Mr.  Merriwell  rides  like  a  Southerner." 

"He  rides  like  Buffalo  Bill,"  said  Browning,  with  an 
effort.  "Bill  is  the  best  rider  I  ever  saw." 

Diamond  was  watching  Merriwell  and  the  horse,  a 
queer  look  on  his  face.  Finally  he  exclaimed : 

"By  Jove !  there's  something  the  matter  with  Nemo !" 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Griswold.  "I  didn't  notice 
anything." 

"The  horse  shows  a  suspicion  of  lameness,"  asserted 
Jack. 

"You  have  good  eyes  to  detect  it,"  observed  Brown- 
ing, doubtingly.  "I  can't  see  that  anything  is  the  mat- 
ter with  the  horse." 

"I'll  wager  he  goes  lame  before  Merriwell  returns." 

"If  he  does,  I  shall  think  you  have  great  discern- 
ment." 

Merriwell  turned  a  corner  and  disappeared. 

"Come,  fellows,"  said  Griswold,  "let's  shuffle  along." 


24          An  Adventure  on  the  Road. 

"Merriwell  is  altogether  too  generous,"  declared 
Diamond,  as  the  trio  walked  away. 

"In  what  way?"  asked  Browning. 

"With  his  enemies.  I  know  you  and  I  were  both 
enemies  to  him  in  the  beginning,  and •" 

"He  threw  us  down  hard." 

"That's  all  right ;  but  there  are  enemies  you  have  to 
hold  down." 

"Merriwell  didn't  do  a  thing  to  Hartwick!"  ex- 
claimed Griswold,  grinning.  "He  scared  the  fellow 
so  he  ran  away  from  college,  and  nobody  knows  where 
he  went." 

"Yes,  but  Merriwell  gave  him  the  opportunity  to 
skip  and  escape  the  disgrace  that  must  follow  public 
exposure  of  his  acts.  Some  fellows  would  have  ex- 
posed him  and  brought  about  his  expulsion." 

"That's  right,"  chirped  Griswold.  "Merriwell  was 
as  generous  with  Hartwick  as  he  could  be  with  such  a 
fellow.  He  might  have  used  him  much  worse  than 
he  did." 

"And  do  you  fancy  Hartwick  thinks  any  more  of 
Merriwell  for  not  exposing  him  publicly  ?"  asked  Jack. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know." 


An  Adventure  on  the  Road.  25 

"Well,  I  will  wager  that  he  does  not.  More  than 
that,  I'll  venture  that  Hartwick,  wherever  he  may  be, 
cherishes  a  fierce  desire  for  revenge,  and  longs  for  the 
day  when  he  will  be  able  to  get  back  at  Frank.  Merry 
will  hear  from  that  chap  again." 

And  there  the  subject  was  dropped. 

Frank  enjoyed  the  ride  upon  Nemo's  back,  for  the 
horse  seemed  intelligent  and  something  of  a  comrade. 
The  boy  talked  to  his  mount  as  if  the  animal  could 
understand  every  word  he  uttered. 

He  had  ridden  beyond  the  limits  of  the  city  before 
he  noticed  that  Nemo  was  limping  the  least  bit. 

"What's  the  matter,  old  fellow  ?"  asked  Frank,  with 
concern.  "Have  you  hurt  yourself  some  way?" 

Nemo  shook  his  head.  It  almost  seemed  that  the 
animal  was  answering  the  question  in  the  negative. 

"You  must  have  stepped  on  a  stone,"  Merriwell  de- 
clared. "Why,  you  are  really  beginning  to  limp  in 
earnest !" 

Frank  immediately  dismounted,  after  having  de- 
cided it  was  Nemo's  left  hind  leg  or  foot  that  was 
lame. 


26  An  Adventure  on  the  Road. 

"I'll  make  an  inspection,  and  see  if  I  can  discover 
what  is  the  matter,"  said  the  boy,  anxiously. 

He  examined  both  of  the  horse's  hind  feet,  but  could 
not  see  that  anything  was  wrong. 

"If  that  rascally  shoer  has  blundered  in  his  work 
he'll  not  get  another  chance  at  you,  boy,"  Merriwell 
declared. 

After  patting  Nemo's  neck  and  fondling  the  fine 
creature  a  bit,  Frank  mounted  once  more. 

But  Nemo  limped  worse  than  ever. 

"This  is  singular,"  muttered  the  perplexed  lad.  "I 
don't  understand  it  at  all.  There's  something  wrong, 
for  a  fact." 

He  watched  the  horse,  and  decided  that  he  had  made 
no  mistake  in  locating  the  lameness  in  the  left  hind 
leg. 

Again  he  dismounted  and  made  an  examination,  and 
again  the  result  was  far  from  satisfactory. 

"I  wish  you  might  speak  and  tell  me  what  is  the 
matter,"  said  Frank,  in  dismay.  "I'll  have  you  ex- 
amined without  delay  by  somebody  who  knows  his 
business." 

He  rode  slowly  into  the  outskirts  of  the  city. 


An  Adventure  on  the  Road.  27 

Of  a  sudden  there  was  a  rattle  of  wheels  and  a  clat- 
ter of  hoofs  behind  him. 

He  turned  and  looked  back,  to  see  a  carriage  com- 
ing along  the  road  at  a  reckless  rate.  Two  persons 
were  seated  in  the  carriage,  and  the  horse  was  covered 
with  sweat. 

"Why  are  those  fools  driving  like  that?"  muttered 
Merriwell.  "Are  they  drunk,  or  is  it  a  matter  of  life 
or  death  ?" 

"Get  out  of  the  road !" 

The  command  was  hoarsely  shouted,  and  Frank 
reined  aside,  having  no  desire  to  get  in  the  way  of  the 
reckless  driver. 

Once  more  the  boy  on  the  horse  turned  to  look  back. 

"Drunk,  sure  enough,"  he  decided.  "And  they  are 
two  young  fellows,  too.  Students  on  a  tear,  perhaps." 

The  occupants  of  the  carriage  had  been  drinking 
heavily,  but  they  were  not  so  drunk  that  they  did  not 
recognize  the  boy  in  advance  when  he  turned  in  the 
saddle  the  second  time. 

"Hey,  Rolf!"  exclaimed  the  one  who  was  not  driv- 
ing. "It's  Merriwell!" 

"That's  what  it  is!"  cried  the  driver.     "I  haven't 


28          An  Adventure  on  the  Road. 

seen  him  for  some  time,  but  I  know  his  face  too  well 
to  ever  forget  it!" 

"He's  out  on  his  new  horse." 

"Sure." 

"Run  him  down!  run  him  down!  Throw  him  off! 
Now's  our  chance!" 

The  driver  was  just  intoxicated  enough  to  be  utterly 
reckless  of  consequences,  and  he  snarled: 

"Hang  me  if  I  don't  do  it!" 

And  then,  when  they  were  very  near  the  boy  and 
the  horse,  he  suddenly  reined  toward  Frank  with  the 
intention  of  running  into  Merriwell's  mount. 

In  another  moment  there  might  have  been  a  grand 
smash  there  on  the  road,  but  Frank  had  caught  the 
words  "Run  him  down!"  and  he  gave  Nemo  a  light 
cut  with  the  whip,  at  the  same  time  pulling  him  still 
farther  into  the  ditch. 

Nemo  was  not  used  to  the  whip,  and  he  leaped  like 
a  flash.  Such  a  spring  would  have  unseated  any  but  a 
.  most  expert  rider,  but  the  boy  in  the  saddle  seemed  to 
move  as  a  part  of  the  horse.  Into  the  ditch  they  went, 
and  past  them  spun  the  carriage  containing  the  two 
reckless  young  men. 


An  Adventure  on  the  Road.  29 

The  carriage  came  very  near  upsetting.  It  careened 
and  spun  along  on  two  wheels,  threatening  to  hurl  its 
occupants  into  the  ditch,  for  the  driver  had  reined  the 
horse  back  toward  the  middle  of  the  road.  Both  clung 
on  for  life. 

"Don't  blame  me !"  muttered  Merriwell,  through  his 
teeth.  "You  were  looking  for  a  smash." 

But  the  carriage  did  not  go  over;  it  righted  at  last. 
One  of  the  young  men  looked  back  and  shook  his  fist 
at  the  boy  on  the  horse,  and  then  away  they  went  in  a 
cloud  of  dust. 

"If  that  was  not  Evan  Hartwick,  I  am  greatly  mis- 
taken !"  exclaimed  Frank,  as  he  reined  Nemo  back  into 
the  road.  "So  he  is  back  here  as  soon  as  this?  I 
know  what  that  means.  He  is  looking  for  revenge  on 
me." 

Frank  had  seen  the  face  of  the  driver  as  the  carriage 
spun  past,  and  he  added : 

"Hartwick' s  companion  is  somebody  I  know.  I  did 
not  obtain  a  fair  look  at  him,  but — great  Scott !  it  was 
the  card  sharp,  Rolf  Harlow !" 

Harlow  was  a  fellow  who  had  entered  Harvard, 


3o          An  Adventure  on  the  Road. 

but  had  not  completed  his  second  year  there,  leaving 
suddenly  for  reasons  not  generally  known. 

A  Yale  man  by  the  name  of  Harris,  familiarly  known 
as  "Sport,"  because  of  his  gambling  inclinations,  had 
known  Harlow,  and  had  introduced  him  to  a  number 
of  Yale  students. 

Harris  and  Harlow  were  both  poker  players,  but 
they  claimed  that  they  played  the  game  "merely  for 
amusement." 

A  number  of  Harris'  acquaintances  had  been  induced 
to  enter  into  the  game,  and  there  had  been  some  very 
"hot  sittings." 

No  one  seemed  to  suspect  that  Harlow  was  crooked, 
for  he  almost  always  lost,  although  he  never  lost  large 
sums. 

Harris  won  almost  continually.  He  seemed  to  be 
the  luckiest  fellow  in  the  world  in  drawing  cards.  He 
would  hold  up  one  ace  on  a  large  jackpot  and  catch 
two  more  aces  and  a  small  pair.  It  seemed  the  great- 
est kind  of  "bull  luck." 

Harry  Rattleton,  Merriwell's  roommate,  was  fol- 
lowing the  game.  Frank  tried  to  induce  him  to  keep 
away,  but  it  was  without  avail. 


An  Adventure  on  the  Road.  31 

Then  Frank  seemed  to  take  an  interest  in  the  game, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  he  proved  that  Harlow  was 
a  card  manipulator,  and  caught  him  at  one  of  his  tricks. 

That  finished  Harlow's  career  at  plucking  Yale 
"fruit,"  and  the  fellow  left  New  Haven  suddenly. 

Harris  had  remained  under  a  cloud  of  suspicion 
since  that  time,  as  there  seemed  very  little  doubt  but 
he  had  been  in  league  with  Harlow,  and  they  had  di- 
vided the  plunder  between  them. 

The  proof  had  not  been  sufficient  to  incriminate 
Harris,  but  it  had  been  enough  to  make  him  unpopu- 
lar and  cause  him  to  be  shunned. 

He  had  seemed  to  take  this  very  meekly,  but  some  of 
Merri well's  friends  declared  that  Harris  had  not  for- 
gotten or  forgiven,  and  that  he  would  strike  back  at 
Frank  if  the  opportunity  ever  presented. 

Now  Harlow  was  back  in  New  Haven,  and  Hart- 
wick,  who  had  been  forced  to  leave  college  to  escape 
expulsion,  was  also  there. 

That  meant  something. 

"Hartwick,  Harlow  and  Harris — the  three  hard 
tickets.  They  are  birds  of  a  feather.  All  they  need  is 
Ditson  to  make  a  most  delectable  quartet!" 


32  An  Adventure  on  the  Road. 

So  muttered  Frank  Merriwell,  as  he  gazed  at  the 
receding  cloud  of  dust. 

Frank  began  to  realize  that  there  was  more  trouble 
in  store  for  him. 

"I  shall  not  deal  gently  with  that  gang  this  time," 
he  declared,  with  a  hard-set  face.  "This  little  adven- 
ture has  put  me  on  my  guard,  and  I  don't  propose  to 
let  them  have  much  fun  with  me.  Those  two  fools 
were  just  full  enough  to  drive  right  into  me  with  the 
hope  of  doing  me  an  injury,  without  a  thought  of  their 
own  necks.  They  might  have  been  thrown  out  and 
killed,  but  they  did  not  hesitate  because  of  that.  The 
one  thought  was  to  do  me  some  way — any  way.  Hart- 
wick  always  was  a  desperate  fellow,  but  I  did  not  fancy 
Harlow  could  be  such  a  chap.  However,  he  was  driv- 
ing that  horse,  and  the  way  he  drove  was  proof  enough 
that  he  is  careless  of  life  and  limb  at  times." 

For  some  time  Frank  paid  very  little  attention  to 
Nemo,  but  the  lameness  of  the  horse  became  so  pro- 
nounced at  last  that  he  could  not  help  observing  it 
once  more. 

"That  worries  me,  old  fellow/'  he  admitted,  with  a 
troubled  face.  "It  is  something  I  can't  understand." 


An  Adventure  on  the  Road.  33 

He  rode  slowly  back  to  the  stable. 

It  was  growing  dark  when  he  arrived  at  the  stable. 
A  strange  man  was  standing  outside  as  Frank  rode 
up.  The  man  looked  keenly  at  the  boy  and  the  horse, 
and  then,  as  the  doors  rolled  open,  followed  into  the 
stable. 

"Horse  is  lame,  eh?"  he  said,  questioningly.  "I 
didn't  notice  that  when  he  went  out.  He  wasn't  lame 
then,  was  her"' 

Frank  paid  not  the  least  attention  to  this  question. 
The  man  was  a  stranger,  and  the  boy  did  not  care  to 
talk  with  him. 

"I  spotted  that  horse  when  yer  rode  out,  young 
man,"  the  stranger  persisted.  "Fine  lookin'  critter- 
just  the  kind  I've  been  wantin'  some  time  for  a  saddle 
horse.  Whose  critter  is  it?" 

"Grody,"  said  Frank,  utterly  ignoring  the  man,  "I 
want  you  to  see  if  you  can  tell  what  ails  Nemo.  He  is 
lame  in  one  of  his  hind  feet.  He  was  taken  that  way 
after  I  had  been  out  a  while.  I  think  it  possible  there 
is  something  the  matter  with  the  way  he  is  shod.  Will 
you  look  after  him  without  delay?" 

"To  be  sure,  sir — I'll  not  fail,  sir,"  said  Grody. 


34  An  Adventure  on  the  Road. 

"Then  the  horse  belongs  ter  you,  does  it  ?"  asked  the 
strange  man,  coming  forward  and  addressing  Frank 
in  a  point-blank  manner.  "I  am  a  horseman,  and  I 
know  all  about  critters.  If  there's  anything  the  mat- 
ter— and  there  seems  to  be — I  can  tell  what  it  is  in  five 
minutes.  Shall  I  make  an  examination,  young  man  ?" 

"No,  sir!"  came  sharply  from  Merriwell's  lips.  "I 
do  not  propose  to  have  strangers  fooling  around  my 
horse.  I  do  not  know  you,  sir,  so  your  offer  is  re- 
spectfully declined." 


CHAPTER  III. 

TEACHING  A   RASCAL   A   LESSON. 

"Now  hold  on,  young  man,  don't  be  so  fast,"  said 
the  stranger.  "You  do  not  know  me  now,  and  I  don't 
blame  yer  fer  not  wantin'  anybody  yer  don't  know 
doing  anything  fer  yer  horse ;  but  here's  my  card — Pro- 
fessor James  Colbath — and  now  I  know  you  have  heard 
of  me.  I  am  one  of  the  greatest  veterinary  surgeons 
in  the  country." 

Frank  ignored  the  card,  and  the  man  began  to  show 
signs  of  anger. 

"This  is  no  bluff!"  he  exclaimed.  "It's  on  the  level. 
I  have  nary  doubt  but  I  can  find  out  what's  the  matter 
with  the  critter  in  five  minutes,  and  if  I  don't  give  yer 
a  square  deal  I  don't  want  a  cent  for  my  services, 
that's  all." 

He  would  have  lifted  one  of  Nemo's  feet,  but  Frank 
cried : 

"Drop  that!  I  tell  you  I  don't  want  you,  and  I 
won't  have  you !  Get  away  from  this  horse !" 


36          Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson. 

The  man  growled  and  stiffened  up. 

"All  right,"  he  said,  somewhat  savagely.  "I  did 
think  of  trying  to  buy  the  critter  off  yer,  but  you're 
too  flip.  If  the  animal  stays  lame,  don't  blame  me." 

Although  Frank  had  seemed  to  pay  very  little  at- 
tention to  the  stranger,  he  was  inspecting  him  closely. 
He  saw  the  man  had  pulled  his  hat  down  over  his  eyes, 
and  wore  his  coat  collar  turned  up.  He  had  a  black 
beard  that  concealed  his  features  to  a  great  extent. 

Grody  was  also  looking  the  stranger  over  closely. 
He  fancied  he  detected  a  familiar  sound  in  the  man's 
voice.  The  light  in  the  stable  was  rather  dim,  and 
that  served  to  make  the  inspection  of  the  boy  and  the 
hostler  rather  unsatisfactory. 

All  at  once,  Grody  started  as  if  struck  by  a  sudden 
idea.  As  soon  as  possible,  he  whispered  in  Frank's 
ear: 

"That  mug  is  the  same  chap  that  were  here  this 
afternoon,  sir." 

"The  same  chap?     What  chap?" 

"The  one  what  gave  his  name  as  Diamond." 

"No?     You  said  that  fellow  had  no  beard." 

"I  don't  believe  this  man's  beard  is  all  right." 


Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson.  37 

Frank  was  aroused.  He  fancied  that  he  saw  a  ray 
of  light. 

The  fellow  who  had  called  himself  Professor  Col- 
bath  turned  away.  He  had  heard  the  hostler  whisper, 
and  he  caught  Frank's  question.  Immediately  he 
showed  a  desire  to  get  out. 

Leaving  the  horse  to  Grody,  Frank  quickly  placed 
himself  before  the  stranger,  saying : 

"Hold  on  a  minute.  I  don't  know  but  I'll  talk  with 
you  a  little." 

"No,  yer  won't !"  growled  the  man.  "I'm  done  try- 
in'  to  talk  with  a  fresh  youngster  like  you — I'm  done 
with  you." 

"Well,  I  am  not  done  with  you !" 

Frank's  voice  rang  out  sharp  and  stern. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  the  man,  uneasily. 

"I  want  to  see  your  face." 

"Well,  look  at  it,  and  when  ye've  seen  it  I'll  proceed 
to  smash  yours!  I  don't  take  no  insolence  from  a 
kid!" 

"Takeoff  your  hat!" 

"I  will— nit!" 

"And  that  beard—take  it  off!" 


38          Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson. 

"Ye' re  crazy!"  cried  the  man,  as  he  started  back. 

"Am  I?" 

Frank  gave  a  spring  and  a  grab  with  both  hands. 
One  hand  snatched  away  the  cap,  and  the  other  tore 
off  the  black  beard,  which,  indeed,  proved  to  be  false. 

The  man  uttered  an  exclamation  of  rage,  and  struck 
at  Frank,  who  dodged  the  blow. 

"Is  this  the  fellow,  Grody?"  cried  Frank. 

"The  same  mug!"  declared  the  hostler,  excitedly. 

"Well,  that's  all  I  want  to  know !"  burst  from  Frank, 
as  he  flung  the  hat  and  beard  to  the  floor.  "So  you 
were  monkeying  around  my  horse  to-day,  you  fakir! 
Well,  what  you  need  is  a  pair  of  good  black  eyes,  and 
I  propose  to  give  them  to  you!" 

Snap! — off  came  the  boy's  jacket  in  a  twinkling, 
and  he  still  stood  between  the  unmasked  man  and  the 
door. 

The  man,  who  was  a  coarse-looking  young  ruffian, 
ground  his  teeth  and  uttered  some  violent  language. 

"Git  out  the  way!"  he  snarled.  "I'm  a  fighter, 
and  I'll  kill  yer!  I  can  put  yer  ter  sleep  with  one 
punch !" 

Merriwell's  blood  was  thoroughly  stirred,  and  he  felt 


Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson.  39 

just  like  teaching  the  fellow  a  lesson.  Although  a 
youth  in  years,  Frank  was,  as  my  old  readers  know,  a 
trained  athlete,  and  he  could  handle  his  fists  in  the  most 
scientific  manner. 

"I  am  going  to  give  you  a  chance  to  put  me  to  sleep," 
he  shot  back.  "I  see  your  dirty  game  from  start  to 
finish!  You  are  a  fakir  of  the  worst  sort,  and  you 
tried  to  work  me.  You  did  something  to  my  horse  to 
make  him  lame,  and  you  thought  you  would  get  a  fat 
pull  out  of  me  for  doctoring  him.  Instead  of  that, 
you  have  run  your  head  into  a  bad  scrape,  and  it  will 
be  damaged  when  you  get  it  out." 

"You  talk  big  for  a  kid.  Why,  I  can  blow  yer  over 
with  my  breath." 

"It  is  strong  enough.  But  I  don't  go  over  so  easy. 
Up  with  your  hands  if  you  are  such  a  fighter!  I'm 
coming  for  you !" 

"All  right !     If  ye're  bound  to  have  it,  come  on !" 

The  man  put  up  his  guard,  and  then  Merriwell  went 
at  him,  while  Grody  gasped  for  breath,  thinking  the 
college  lad  could  be  no  match  for  the  young  ruffian. 

There  were  a  few  swift  passes,  and  then  Frank 
went  under  the  fellow's  guard  and  gave  him  a  terrific 


40          Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson. 

uppercut  on  the  chin.  That  was  a  staggerer,  and  the 
boy  followed  it  up  while  the  man  was  dazed. 

Punk! — biff! — two  blows,  one  on  the  body  and  the 
other  fairly  in  the  eye. 

The  second  blow  nearly  knocked  the  man  down,  and 
it  made  him  as  fierce  as  a  famished  tiger.  Snarling  like 
an  enraged  beast,  he  tried  to  close  in  on  the  lively  lad. 

"Oh,  let  me  get  hold  of  you !"  he  grated.  "I'll  crush 
the  life  out  of  ye !" 

Frank  avoided  the  rush  by  stepping  aside,  and  gave 
the  fellow  another  body  blow  as  he  passed. 

Body  blows,  however,  were  not  as  effective  as  they 
should  have  been,  on  account  of  the  fellow's  clothing, 
and  Merriwell  quickly  decided  to  waste  no  more  en- 
ergy in  that  manner. 

The  man  turned,  and  went  for  Frank  again.  This 
time  the  boy  did  not  try  to  get  out  of  the  way,  but  he 
met  his  antagonist  squarely,  and  gave  him  a  heavy  one 
in  the  other  eye. 

"That  ought  to  make  them  mates/'  said  Frank,  with 
a  laugh.  "You  won't  know  yourself  when  you  look 
in  the  glass  to-morrow  morning.  Perhaps  it'll  teach 


Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson.  41 

you  better  than  to  try  any  of  your  rackets  on  a  boy. 
You  can't  always  tell  what  you  are  getting  up  against." 

The  man's  teeth  could  be  heard  grinding  together. 
He  was  so  furious  that  he  quite  lost  his  head.  Then 
Frank  sailed  in  to  finish  the  affair  as  soon  as  possible. 

Grody  held  his  breath,  nearly  bursting  with  aston- 
ishment and  admiration. 

"Oh,  say!"  he  chuckled.  "I  never  saw  a  youngster 
what  were  that  fellow's  match!  He's  hot  stuff!" 

The  hostler  could  scarcely  believe  it  possible  that 
Merriwell  was  giving  the  scoundrel  a  first-class  whip- 
ping, but  this  became  more  and  more  evident  with  each 
passing  moment. 

In  fact,  Frank  was  struck  just  once  during  the  en- 
tire encounter,  and  that  was  a  glancing  blow  on  the 
forehead,  which  he  scarcely  noticed.  He  thumped  the 
rascal  to  his  heart's  satisfaction,  and  then  knocked  him 
flat  with  a  round-arm  swing  that  landed  on  the  jaw. 

The  ruffian  lay  on  the  floor  and  groaned.  When  he 
started  to  get  up  Merriwell  exclaimed : 

"There,  I  think  that  will  do  you  for  to-night !  When 
you  want  some  more  of  the  same  just  come  fooling 
around  my  horse!" 


42          Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson. 

He  caught  the  man  by  the  shoulders,  yanked  him  to 
his  feet,  ran  him  to  the  door,  and  booted  him  out  of  the 
stable. 

Having  done  this,  Frank  turned  back  and  coolly  put 
on  his  coat. 

"There,  Grody,"  he  said,  "I  feel  better.  I  think  it  is 
possible  I  have  given  that  rascal  a  lesson  he  will  not 
forget  in  a  hurry." 

The  hostler  stared,  and  then  he  cried : 

"Mr.  Merriwell,  sir,  you  are  a  wonder!  If  as  how 
you  were  to  go  inter  ther  ring  you'd  make  some  of  the 
duffers  hustle.  That  were  the  neatest  job  what  I  ever 
see!" 

"It  was  not  so  much  of  a  trick,"  declared  Frank. 
"The  fellow  is  strong,  I'll  warrant,  but  he  is  too  heavy 
on  his  feet  and  too  slow  in  his  movements.  There  are 
scores  of  fellows  in  college  who  can  polish  him  off." 

"I  will  allow  I  never  knowed  you  college  chaps  were 
able  to  fight  like  that  before.  I  knowed  some  of  you 
were  for  fighting  among  yourselves  all  right,  but  I 
didn't  think  you  could  go  up  against  a  reg'ler  scrapper." 

"It's  a  part  of  the  education  at  Yale,"  smiled  Frank ; 
"and  I've  found  it  comes  in  handy  occasionally.  The 


Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson.  43 

man  who  can't  fight  his  way  through  this  world  in  one 
manner  or  another  gets  walked  over  by  chaps  who  are 
not  his  equal  in  any  other  way.  I  do  not  believe  a  man 
should  fight  only  at  the  proper  time,  but  when  he  has 
to  fight,  I  hold  that  he  should  be  able  to  do  a  good  turn 
at  it." 

"Well,  you  can  do  your  turn  all  right,  sir." 

"Now,  Grody,  Nemo  must  receive  proper  attention. 
I  am  sure  that  fellow  did  something  to  make  the  horse 
lame.  What  he  did  I  can't  tell.  I  don't  see  how  he 
did  it  without  getting  his  brains  kicked  out." 

Grody  hesitated,  and  then  he  said : 

"Mr.  Merriwell,  sir,  I  wants  to  tell  ye  something." 

"All  right,  Grody,  go  on." 

"I  didn't  tell  all  what  happened  in  the  stall  to-day 
when  that  bloke  were  here." 

"Oh,  you  didn't?" 

"No,  sir.  What  called  my  attention  to  the  fact 
that  he  had  gone  inter  the  stall  were  a  racket." 

"What  sort  of  a  racket?" 

"Nemo  kicked  and  squealed,  sir,  and  I  heard  the  man 
speaking  to  him.  Then  I  ran  over  and  looked  in." 

"What  was  the  rascal  doing,  Grody?" 


44          Teaching  a  Rascal  a  Lesson. 

"He  were  examinin'  Nemo's  feet,  sir." 
"And  that  was  when  he  got  in  his  dirty  work !"  cried 
Frank,  angrily.     "I'm  afraid  I  didn't  thump  him  as 
much  as  he  deserved !     I  feel  like  hunting  him  up  and 
giving  him  a  few  more!" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

BIRDS   OF   A    FEATHER. 

In  a  little  back  room  of  a  saloon  three  young  men 
were  sitting.  They  were  talking  earnestly,  for  all 
that  two  of  the  three  showed  they  had  taken  altogether 
too  much  liquor  to  be  entirely  sober. 

"We're  glad  to  see  you,  Sport,"  one  of  the  drinkers 
declared. 

"Well,  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  Harlow^  old  man,  and 
you,  too,  Hartwick,  although  we  were  never  friendly 
before  you  left  Yale  so  suddenly." 

"That  was  my  fault,"  admitted  Hartwick,  huskily. 
"I  didn't  know  enough  to  pick  out  the  right  sort  of 
pals.  I  trusted  too  much  to  Ditson.  He's  no  good !" 

"Now  there  is  where  you  make  a  mistake,"  asserted 
Sport  Harris,  quickly.  "I  know  Ditson  has  no  nerve, 
but  he  hates  the  same  fellow  we  hate,  and  he  is  good  t^ 
do  the  dirty  work.  We  can  make  use  of  him,  Hart- 
wick. " 


46  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  him,"  confessed  Har- 
low. 

"No,  he  hasn't  the  nerve  to  play  poker,  and  so  you 
did  not  get  acquainted  with  him  when  you  were  here." 

"I  don't  know  that  he  hates  Merriwell  so  much," 
growled  Hartwick.  "You  remember  that  Ditson 
blowed  everything  to  Merriwell,  and  that  is  why  I  was 
forced  to  skip.  Oh,  I'd  like  the  satisfaction  of  punch- 
ing the  face  off  the  dirty  little  traitor !" 

"But  what  caused  Ditson  to  blow?  He  says  you 
misused  him." 

"I  choked  the  cad  a  little,  that  is  all." 

"But  there  was  something  back  of  that,"  declared 
Harris.  "What  led  you  to  choke  him?" 

"Oh,  we  had  a  little  trouble.  He  was  trying  to 
squeeze  me  too  hard,  and  I  wouldn't  stand  for  it." 

"Trying  to  squeeze  you?" 

"Yes." 

"How?" 

"Well,  I  don't  mind  telling  you.  You  know  I  tried 
to  mark  Merriwell  for  life  by  punching  my  foil  through 
the  mask  that  protected  his  face  while  we  were  engaged 
in  a  fencing  bout.  I  had  prepared  my  foil  for  that  in 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  47 

advance  by  fixing  the  button  so  I  could  remove  it,  and 
by  sharpening  the  point  of  the  foil.  I  wanted  to  spoil 
the  fellow's  pretty  face !" 

The  most  malignant  hatred  was  expressed  in  Hart- 
wick's  words  and  manner.  He  went  on : 

"I  tried  the  trick,  but  did  not  succeed.  Ditson  car- 
ried off  the  foil,  and  kept  it.  He  would  not  give  it 
up,  although  he  promised  to  a  hundred  times.  He  used 
it  to  aid  in  blackmailing  me.  When  he  asked  me  for 
money,  I  did  not  feel  like  refusing  him,  for  he  could 
throw  me  down  hard  by  turning  the  foil  over  to  Merri- 
well.  But  he  carried  the  thing  too  far. 

"One  night  when  I  was  in  a  bad  mood  he  tried  to 
squeeze  more  money  out  of  me.  He  had  been  living 
in  luxury  for  some  time,  while  I  was  broke  almost  con- 
tinually. I  kicked  and  refused  to  give  up.  Then  he 
had  the  insolence  to  threaten  me  with  exposure.  I  lost 
my  head  and  choked  him.  Directly  after  that  he 
turned  like  a  viper  and  blowed  everything  to  Merri- 
well.  That  was  my  downfall.  I  had  to  skip.  Is 
there  any  reason  why  I  should  not  hate  the  sneak?" 

"No,  I  do  not  wonder  that  you  are  sore  on  him ;  but 
he  did  not  make  anything  out  of  the  trick." 


48  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

"Didn't  make  anything!  Why,  he  forced  me  out 
of  college!" 

"That  was  not  the  main  thing  he  was  looking  for." 

"Then  what  was?" 

"He  hoped  to  get  in  with  Merriwell,  and  he  fancied 
Merriwell  would  think  him  a  fine  fellow  for  blowing." 

"Well?" 

"Well,  he  made  a  mistake  in  Frank  Merriwell,  for 
Merriwell  despised  him  all  the  more,  although  he  did 
nothing  to  injure  Ditson.  He  does  not  recognize  Dit- 
son  at  all,  and  now  Ditson  is  more  eager  than  before 
to  do  Merriwell  an  injury." 

"All  the  same,  Ditson  can't  be  trusted." 

"Not  unless  he  is  so  deep  in  the  game  that  it  means 
ruin  for  him  to  blow.  Then  he  is  caught.  As  I  said 
in  the  first  place,  he  is  a  good  man  to  do  the  dirty  work 
that  we  do  not  want  to  touch." 

"I  think  Harris  is  right,"  nodded  Harlow,  "and  you 
may  get  a  chance  to  even  up  with  Ditson  by  throwing 
him  down  when  we  have  fixed  Merriwell  nicely." 

"But  you  want  to  remember  you  are  going  up  against 
a  bad  man  in  Frank  Merriwell,"  warned  Sport.  "I 
do  not  care  to  be  forced  out  of  Yale." 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  49 

"Of  course  not/'  said  Hartwick  and  Harlow. 

"You  fellows  have  not  so  much  to  look  out  for.  You 
can  do  things  that  would  be  beyond  me." 

"We  made  a  bluff  at  doing  something  to-day," 
growled  Hartwick.  "We  were  out  for  a  drive,  and  we 
came  upon  Merriwell.  He  was  on  his  new  horse,  and 
we  tried  to  run  him  down,  but  he  got  out  of  the  way." 

"I  don't  know  but  it  is  a  good  thing  he  did,"  con- 
fessed Harlow.  "If  we  had  struck  him  there' d  been 
a  general  smashup.  I  was  driving,  and  we  were  mak- 
ing the  old  nag  hit  a  hot  pace.  We  came  near  going 
bottom  up  as  it  was." 

"You  must  have  been  badly  rattled,"  exclaimed 
Harris. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  laughed  Hartwick,  harshly. 
"We've  been  up  against  it  for  the  past  three  days.  Eh, 
Harlow?" 

"That's  what,"  nodded  the  card  sharp.  "Hartwick 
is  a  hard  man  to  follow.  He  can  kill  more  stuff  than 
anybody  I  ever  saw." 

"Well,"  said  Harris,  "I  have  asked  Ditson  to  come 
in  here  this  evening.  I  took  a  chance  on  it,  for  I 
thought  we  could  get  rid  of  him  easily  enough  if  we 


50  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

didn't  want  him.  He  is  liable  to  be  along  at  any  mo- 
ment" 

Harlow  looked  at  a  handsome  watch. 

"A  quarter  to  ten,"  he  said.  "He  ought  to  be 
around  soon  if  he  is  coming  at  all." 

"He  will  be.  Where'd  you  get  that  ticker,  old 
man?" 

"Oh,  I  took  it  off  a  sucker  in  a  game.  I'll  have  to 
soak  it  if  I  don't  strike  some  sort  of  graft  pretty  soon. 
I'm  getting  down  to  hard  pan." 

"I  suppose  you  are  all  right,  Hartwick  ?"  questioned 
Harris.  "You  can  call  on  your  old  man  and  make  him 
give  up  any  time." 

"Well,  I  guess  not!  I  haven't  been  able  to  get  a 
dollar  out  of  the  old  duffer  since  I  left  college.  He  is 
icy  toward  me,  and  he  says  I  can  go  it  for  myself  and 
be  hanged." 

"That's  pleasant!  What  have  you  been  doing  to 
gather  in  the  coin?" 

"Why,  confound  it!  haven't  I  formed  a  partnership 
with  Harlow!  I  don't  know  anything  about  card 
tricks,  but  he  works  all  of  that,  and  I  win  the  money. 
He  gives  me  the  hands  to  do  it  on,  you  see.  If  there 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  5 i 

is  suspicion  aroused,  the  poor  suckers  take  to  watch- 
ing me,  and  they  are  unable  to  catch  me  at  anything 
crooked.  Our  only  trouble  is  to  find  the  right  sort  of 
fruit  for  plucking.  We  generally  pretend  we  are 
strangers  to  each  other.  Sometimes  we  have  a  little 
disagreement  over  the  table,  just  to  fool  the  fools  all 
the  more." 

"That's  first-rate,"  laughed  Harris.  "I  wish  the 
gang  here  was  not  onto  Harlow.  I  could  get  you 
some  ripe  plums." 

"And  that's  what  made  me  so  sore  on  Merriwell," 
growled  Harlow.  "But  for  that  fellow  we'd  be  right 
in  it  now.  Oh,  I  want  to  soak  him  some  way,  and 
soak  him  hard!" 

"And  we'll  find  a  way  to  soak  him,  too!"  growled 
Hartwick.  "Let's  have  another  round,  fellows." 

He  pushed  a  button  and  a  waiter  appeared.  Drinks 
were  ordered.  When  they  were  brought,  Ditson  came 
in  with  the  waiter. 

"Hello,  Roll!"  called  Harris.  "Glad  you  came 
along.  Mr.  Ditson,  Mr.  Harlow.  I  think  you  have 
met  the  other  gentleman." 


52  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

Ditson  started  and  turned  pale  when  he  saw  Hart- 
wick,  who  was  glowering  at  him. 

"Oh,  yes !  Mr.  Ditson  has  met  me !"  said  Evan,,  sig- 
nificantly. "We  do  not  need  an  introduction !" 

Ditson  seemed  on  the  point  of  getting  out  in  a  hurry, 
but  Harris  arose  and  took  him  by  the  arm. 

"It's  all  right/'  he  assured.     "Sit  down,  Roll." 

"What  sort  of  a  game  is  this?"  hesitatingly  asked 
Ditson,  keeping  his  eyes  on  Hartwick.  "Have  you 
fellows  got  me  in  here  to  do  me  up?" 

"Nothing  of  the  sort." 

"Not  but  I'd  like  to  do  you,  and  do  you  good,"  con- 
fessed Hartwick,  "but  Harris  won't  have  it." 

"No,"  said  Sport;  "I  hold  that  we  are  all  united  by 
our  hatred  for  a  common  foe,  and  we  cannot  afford  to 
be  anything  but  friends." 

"All  the  same,  it  was  a  dirty  deal  you  gave  me,  Dit- 
son," growled  Evan,  who  seemed  to  be  longing  to  pick 
a  row  with  the  newcomer. 

"You  forced  me  into  it,"  declared  Ditson,  weakly. 

"Forced  you?" 

"Yes." 

"How  was  that?" 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  5} 

"You  know  well  enough.  You  set  on  me  like  a  mad 
tiger,  and  I'll  bet  you  would  have  choked  me  to  death  in 
your  room  if  you  hadn't  been  seized  with  one  of  your 
attacks  of  heart  trouble.  I  was  afraid  of.  you,  and  I 
had  to  do  something  to  protect  myself." 

"So  you  blew  the  whole  thing  to  Merriwell !  That 
was  a  brave  trick.  But  I  understand  Merriwell  has 
turned  you  down  in  great  shape  since  that." 

"Well,  he  hasn't  used  me  right,"  admitted  Ditson. 
"Sometimes  I  think  I'd  like  to  kick  the  wind  out  of 
him,  but  I  know  I  can't  do  it." 

"You  may  have  the  chance  to  take  the  wind  out  of 
him,"  said  Harris.  "Sit  down,  old  man,  and  we  will 
talk  matters  over.  What  are  you  drinking?" 

"Bring  me  a  sherry  flip,  waiter,"  ordered  Ditson, 
seeing  the  waiter  had  paused  outside. 

Then  he  sat  down  in  a  chair  offered  him,  saying : 

"If  there's  any  sure  way  of  doing  Merriwell  up,  I'm 
:n  for  it;  but  I  give  it  to  you  straight  that  I  am  sick  of 
trying  to  do  him  and  having  him  come  out  on  top. 
It's  got  to  be  a  sure  thing  this  time,  or  I  don't  touch  it." 

Beyond  a  thin  partition  in  a  room  next  to  the  one 


54  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

occupied  by  the  four  plotters  sat  a  man  who  had  a  cut 
and  bruised  face  and  a  pair  of  swollen  black  eyes. 

This  man  had  been  drinking  heavily.  A  bottle  of 
whiskey  and  a  glass  sat  on  the  little  table  before  him. 
He  was  alone  in  the  room. 

He  had  seemed  to  suddenly  lose  all  interest  in  the 
whiskey,  and  he  was  leaning  against  the  board  parti- 
tion with  his  ear  close  to  a  crack,  intently  listening  to 
the  talk  of  the  four  lads  in  the  next  room. 

The  man  had  heard  Frank  Merriwell's  name  spoken, 
and  that  was  the  first  thing  to  attract  his  attention  to 
what  the  occupants  of  the  next  room  were  saying. 

"That's  the  fellow!"  muttered  the  man,  hoarsely. 
"He's  the  one  what  gave  me  these  beautiful  peepers 
and  pretty  mug!  I'll  give  him  something  worse  than 
this  before  long." 

Then  he  decided  to  listen. 

"Wonder  if  them  chaps  is  his  friends?  I'll  jest  see 
what  they're  sayin'  about  him." 

It  was  not  long  before  the  man  was  able  to  hear 
enough  to  satisfy  him  that  the  lads  in  the  next  room 
were  anything  but  friends  of  Frank  Merriwell,  and  he 
listened  with  fresh  eagerness. 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  55 

He  heard  Ditson  come  in  with  the  waiter,  and  caught 
much  of  the  conversation  that  followed.  Then  Ditson 
sat  down,  and  the  plotters  lowered  their  voices. 

"That  settles  it!"  exclaimed  the  man.  "I'm  goin' 
right  in  there  and  see  if  they  don't  want  to  take  me  inter 
the  gang.  Them  college  ducks  will  be  jest  the  fellers 
to  help  me  in  gettin'  back  at  Frank  Merriwell." 

He  got  up,  left  the  little  room,  and  went  around  to 
the  door  of  the  other  room.  Without  stopping  to 
knock,  he  opened  the  door  and  walked  in. 

"H'waryer,"  he  saluted,  as  the  four  lads  stared  at 
him  in  amazement.  "My  name's  Mike  Hogan,  and  I 
want  ter  join  in  with  ther  push." 

"Get  out  of  here,  you  bum !"  cried  Hartwick,  fiercely. 
"You  are  intruding  on  a  private  party." 

"Hold  hard,  young  feller !"  returned  the  fellow  who 
had  given  his  name  as  Mike  Hogan.  "Don't  call  me 
a  bum!  I'm  onto  your  curves,  and  there  ain't  no 
reason  why  you  and  me  shouldn't  be  friends." 

"Friends!"  exclaimed  Hartwick — "friends!  Well, 
I  prefer  to  choose  my  friends." 

"And  you  didn't  make  much  of  a  success  when  you 


56  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

chose  a  young  gent  here  what  is  named  Ditson.  Keep 
yer  seat!" 

"Press  the  button,  Harlow,  and  we'll  have  this  fellow 
thrown  out !"  came  savagely  from  Hartwick's  lips. 

"Wait  a  minute  before  you  press  the  button,"  urged 
Mike  Hogan.  "Do  you  see  this  face?" 

"Yes." 

"It's  a  peach,  now,  ain't  it?" 

"You  can  consider  yourself  lucky  if  it  isn't  worse 
than  that  when  you  get  out  of  here,  my  man." 

"Don't  'my  man'  me,  young  feller!  I  don't  like  it! 
Do  yer  know  who  give  me  this  face  and  these  two  beau- 
tiful eyes?" 

"No,  and  we " 

"Well,  I'll  tell  yer  who  it  was.  It  was  a  feller  what 
goes  by  the  name  of  Frank  Merriwell." 

"Well,  he  did  a  first-class  job,"  commented  Harris. 
"That  really  looks  like  some  of  Merriwell's  work." 

"He  done  it,"  nodded  Mike.  "Nacherlly  I  ain't  got 
no  love  to  speak  of  for  him.  Well,  I  was  in  the  room 
next  to  this  just  now,  and  as  I  was  leanin'  against  the 
partition  I  happened  to  overhear  what  you  chaps  was 
sayin'  in  here.  From  what  I  heard,  I  judged  you 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  57 

didn't  love  this  Merriwell  none  to  brag  about,  and  I 
says  to  myself,  'Mike,  if  you  want  to  get  even,  them  is 
the  boys  to  hitch  fast  to.'  Then  I  got  right  up  and 
came  in  here  without  bein'  invited.  I  hope  you'll  ex- 
cuse me,  gents,  but  I  couldn't  help  it  under  the  circum- 
stances. I  had  a  sort  of  feller-feelin'  for  you  chaps, 
and  I  thought  mebbe  we  might  arrange  some  sort  of  a 
deal  together  that  would  do  this  Merriwell,  and  do  him 
for  keeps.  I'm  not  a  chap  with  much  education,  but 
I'll  bet  anything  I  can  hate  just  as  hard  as  you  fellers, 
and  if  there's  anybody  I  hate  on  the  earth,  it's  Frank 
Merriwell. 

"There,  now,  gents,  you  have  heard  what  I  have  ter 
say,  and  I  hope  you'll  tumble  ter  ther  fact  that  I  am 
on  the  level.  This  is  no  case  of  stringing.  I  want  ter 
pay  back  that  feller  for  these  two  black  eyes  and  this 
mug.  Mebbe  you  can  help  me  to  do  it,  and  I  can  help 
you  to  square  yerselves  with  him  at  the  same  time. 
If  that  is  right,  why  shouldn't  we  kinder  go  into  part- 
nerships for  a  short  period  ?  I  put  the  question  to  yer, 
and  you  can  do  as  ye  please." 

The  quartet  at  the  table  looked  at  one  another  in- 
quiringly and  doubtingly.  They  seemed  to  hesitate. 


58  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

"If  this  man  tells  the  truth,  ana  I  should  judge  that 
he  does,  he  may  be  of  service  to  us  and  we  to  him,"  said 
Sport  Harris. 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Harlow.  "If  Merriwell 
gave  him  that  mug  and  those  beautiful  eyes,  I  don't 
wonder  that  he  wants  to  get  square." 

Hartwick  was  silent.  He  was  looking  Mike  Hogan 
over,  and  he  was  thinking: 

"Is  it  possible  I  have  fallen  to  the  point  where  I 
have  to  take  such  a  fellow  as  a  comrade?  No!  It 
will  not  be  as  a  comrade.  We  can  use  him  as  a  tool, 
perhaps,  and  that  is  what  we  will  do,  if  we  use  him 
at  all." 

"Sit  down,"  invited  Hartwick,  suddenly  rising  and 
offering  Mike  his  chair.  "I'll  get  another.  I  want  to 
hear  just  how  you  came  by  those  eyes." 

Hogan  sat  down  at  the  table  and  Hartwick  brought 
a  chair  from  a  corner. 

"We  are  all  anxious  to  hear  how  you  came  by  those 
eyes,"  declared  Harlow. 

"Some  gent  order  drinks,  and  I  will  tell  ye.  Never 
mind,"  he  cried,  as  he  saw  them  look  at  each  other 
knowingly,  as  if  they  thought  he  was  trying  to  work 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  59 

them  for  liquor,  "I'll  order,  myself!  Don't  you  think 
for  a  second  that  I'm  broke!" 

Then  he  flung  a  small  roll  of  bills  on  the  table  be- 
fore them,  reached  past  Harlow,  and  pressed  the  but- 
ton. When  the  waiter  appeared,  he  said: 

"Give  these  gents  anything  they  want,  Pete." 

"Wot  if  they  orders  champagne?"  grinned  Pete, 
winking  at  the  boys. 

"Then  bring  it,  dern  ye!"  snarled  Hogan,  as  he 
grabbed  up  the  roll  of  money  and  thrust  it  at  the  waiter. 
"Take  the  pay  out  of  that  and  gimme  the  change." 

Drinks  were  ordered  and  quickly  brought.  Hogan 
paid  for  them  and  gave  the  waiter  a  quarter  as  a  tip. 

"How  about  it,  Pete?"  he  asked.     "Am  I  all  right?" 

"Ye're  all  right,  Mike,"  declared  the  waiter, 
promptly ;  "and  the  young  gents  will  find  that  anything 
you  says  sticks." 

Then  he  went  out. 

"Now,"  said  Hogan,  "before  I  begin  I  want  to  tell 
you  chaps  this :  I'm  on  the  make.  That  is  how  I  hap- 
pened to  get  up  against  this  chap  Merriwell.  I  heard 
that  he  paid  a  cool  thousand  for  that  horse  of  his,  and 
I  kinder  admitted  that  a  boy  who  could  pay  that  sum 


60  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

for  a  horse  must  be  in  circumstances  that  would  permit 
him  to  burn  money  in  an  open  grate.  Such  a  chap 
was  worth  my  attention.  I  know  horses  from  their 
hoofs  to  the  tips  of  their  ears.  There  ain't  much  of 
anything  I  don't  know  about  'em.  And  I  knew  Merri- 
well  must  be  stuck  on  the  horse  for  which  he  paid  a 
thousand  plunks. 

"Well,  gents,  I'll  tell  ye  my  scheme.  I  kinder 
thought  it  would  be  easy  to  play  the  horse  doctor,  and 
work  Merriwell  for  a  good  pot.  All  that  was  neces- 
sary was  to  make  something  ail  the  horse.  Then  I 
went  round  to  the  stable  where  he  keeps  the  critter, 
after  I  had  first  learned  the  name  of  one  of  Merri- 
well's  friends.  I  wanted  to  get  at  the  horse,  and  I 
knew  it  wouldn't  be  easy  unless  I  appeared  to  be  on  the 
inside  track  with  Merriwell.  I  went  round  and  said 
I  was  this  friend  of  Merriwell,  and  in  that  way  I  got 
into  the  stall  with  the  horse. 

"Don't  you  care  what  I  done  to  make  that  horse 
lame,  but  I  done  it  all  right.  When  Merriwell  rode 
out  this  afternoon  the  critter  went  to  limpin'  under  him- 
When  he  came  back  to  the  stable  I  was  there,  but  I  had 
changed  my  clothes  and  I  wore  a  beard.  I  introduced 


Birds  of  a  Feather.  61 

myself  as  a  horse  doctor,  and  offered  to  cure  his  horse, 
or  not  to  charge  him  a  dollar.  If  I  cured  the  critter, 
which  I  could  do  easy,  I  meant  to  charge  him  a  hun- 
dred dollars,  and  I  thought  he'd  be  fool  enough  to  pay 
it  without  a  kick/' 

"That  shows  you  didn't  know  the  kind  of  a  fellow 
you  were  trying  to  fool,"  said  Harris. 

"I  found  that  out  all  right.  He  wouldn't  make  any 
talk  with  me.  Then  when  I  got  hot  and  was  going 
away  he  suddenly  took  a  notion  to  stop  me.  The  first 
thing  I  knew  he  had  snatched  off  my  hat  and  beard, 
and  the  hostler  recognized  me  as  the  same  chap  as  was 
in  to  see  the  horse  this  afternoon. 

"I  didn't  feel  alarmed  then,"  Mike  went  on,  "for 
Merriwell  is  a  young  chap,  and  I  know  something  about 
fighting.  That  is,  I  thought  I  knew  something  about 
it.  I'm  not  sure  about  that  now.  I  told  him  to  get 
out  of  the  way,  or  I  would  do  him  up.  I  saw  my 
scheme  was  bu'sted,  but  I  felt  sure  it'd  be  some  time 
before  he'd  find  out  what  ailed  his  horse. 

"That  young  fool  didn't  seem  at  all  scared  of  me. 
He  wouldn't  get  out  of  the  way  and  let  me  go,  but  he 
put  himself  in  my  way,  and  then  we  had  it.  When 


62  Birds  of  a  Feather. 

we  got  through  I  found  that  I  had  it,  and  I  had  it  bad. 
There  ain't  no  need  to  tell  just  what  happened.  Take 
a  look  at  my  mug  and  you'll  see  for  yourself.  That 
young  cuss  can  fight  like  a  tiger ! 

"But  now  I'm  goin'  to  get  level  with  him,  and  don't 
you  fergit  it!  I'll  make  him  sorry  that  he  ever  gave 
Mike  Hogan  a  pair  of  black  eyes!  I'll  never  be  satis- 
fied till  I  have  done  him  the  worst  kind  of  a  turn. 

"I  heard  you  chaps  talkin',  and  it  struck  me  that  we 
might  pull  together  to  do  him  dirt.  That's  why  I  came 
right  in.  What  do  you  say  to  it?" 

The  boys  looked  at  each  other,  and  then  they  nodded 
approval. 

"You'll  do,"  said  Harris.  "You  may  prove  a  very 
valuable  man  for  us." 


CHAPTER  V. 

WHAT   A    HAIR    CAN   DO. 

At  his  first  opportunity  to  get  away  from  recitations- 
the  following  day  Frank  took  Diamond  and  Rattleton 
and  hastened  down  to  the  stable  to  find  out  how  Nemo 
was  coming  along.  *$A 

Grody,  who  had  just  saddled  a  horse  for  a  gentle- 
man, met  Frank,  and  the  expression  on  his  face  was 
anything  but  reassuring.  ,  '  ^  % 

"Well,  how  is  the  pony  this  morning?"  asked  Merri- 
well,  anxiously. 

"Just  as  lame  as  he  were,  sir,"  answered  Grody. 
"I've  been  tryin'  to  find  out  what  it  were  that  happened 
to  him,  but  I  can't,  sir." 

"Did  you  take  him  to  the  shoer  the  first  thing  this 
morning  and  have  his  feet  examined,  as  I  directed  ?" 

"I  did  that,  sir." 

"And  what  did  the  shoer  say?" 

"He  located  the  lameness  in  the  same  foot  what  we 
said  were  lame,  sir,  and  he  took  off  the  shoe,  but  he 


64  What  a  Hair  Can  Do. 

said  as  how  it  were  all  right,  and  no  fault  of  the  shoe- 
ing. He  didn't  know  but  a  nail  might  have  gone  too 
deep,  sir,  but  he  found  that  were  not  it." 

This  was  anything  but  satisfactory,  and  Frank 
showed  it  by  his  face. 

"Well,"  he  said,  "you  know  I  told  you  to  summon 
Dr.  Cobb,  if  it  proved  something  beyond  the  shoeing." 

"And  that  were  what  I  done,  sir." 

"And  the  doctor  could  not  tell  what  ailed  the  horse  ?" 

"The  doctor  has  not  come  yet,  sir.  He  were  busy 

when  I  send  the  message  to  him,  but  he  said Here 

he  is  now,  sir." 

A  rig  drew  up  at  the  door,  and  a  short,  stubbed,  red- 
bearded  man  stepped  out.  This  man  entered  the  stable 
with  a  quick  step  and  called  to  the  hostler : 

"Well,  Grody,  did  you  telephone  me?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I  did,  sir,"  said  the  hostler,  quickly. 

"Important  case,  you  said?" 

"Yes,  sir,  very  important." 

"Where's  the  horse?" 

"I'll  bring  him  right  out,  sir." 

The  hostler  hastened  to  do  so,  and  Dr.  Cobb  looked 
keenly  at  Nemo. 


What  a  Hair  Can  Do.  65 

"Walk  him  around/'  directed  the  doctor. 

Grody  obeyed. 

"Just  a  bit  lame,"  commented  the  doctor.  "It  may 
be  a  slight  strain.  It  doesn't  seem  to  be  much." 

"But  it  grows  worse  when  he  is  taken  out  on  the 
road,"  said  Frank.  "It  was  very  bad  yesterday  after- 
noon." 

The  doctor  glanced  at  the  boy. 

"Your  horse  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  sir." 

"When  did  you  first  notice  he  was  lame?" 

"Yesterday  afternoon." 

"Had  him  out  this  morning?" 

"Grody  took  him  to  the  shoer,  that's  all." 

"What  did  he  say?" 

"Said  there  was  nothing  the  matter  with  the  way. 
Nemo  is  shod." 

"Perhaps  he  lied.  Didn't  want  to  hurt  his  business. 
Did  he  do  anything?" 

"Yes,  he  reset  the  shoe  on  the  lame  foot." 

"Hum!  Horse  may  be  all  right  by  to-morrow  or 
next  day." 

"I  do  not  think  he  will,  doctor." 


66  What  a  Hair  Can  Do. 

"Eh?    Why  not?" 

"Because  I  have  reasons  to  believe  he  was  made  to 
go  lame." 

"Is  that  so?  Well,  now  the  matter  becomes  more 
interesting.  What  causes  you  to  think  anything  of  the 
sort?" 

Frank  explained,  and  the  doctor  listened  attentively 
to  his  story. 

"This  is  worth  investigating,"  he  declared.  "I  know 
a  few  of  the  tricks  of  these  fellows,  and  I  think  I'll  find 
out  what  was  done  to  your  horse,  if  anything  was 
done." 

The  boys  watched  the  doctor  with  great  interest. 
They  saw  him  examine  the  lame  leg  from  the  knee 
down.  In  doing  this  he  put  on  a  pair  of  spectacles. 

Nemo  was  nervous.  He  seemed  afraid  the  doctor 
would  hurt  him,  and  it  was  not  found  easy  to  make  him 
stand. 

At  last  Dr.  Cobb  uttered  a  sharp  exclamation. 

"Bring  my  case,  which  you  will  find  under  the  seat 
in  my  carriage,  Grody,"  he  directed. 

Grody  hastened  to  obey. 


What  a  Hair  Can  Do.  67 

"Have  you  found  out  what  the  matter  is,  doctor?" 
Frank  anxiously  asked. 

"I  believe  so,  but  I  am  not  sure  yet" 

Jack  and  Harry  came  near,  eager  to  learn  what  had 
been  done  to  lame  the  horse. 

The  doctor  opened  his  case,  and  took  out  some 
tweezers. 

"Do  you  see  this  hair  here?"  he  asked,  having 
brushed  the  fetlock  aside  and  taken  the  end  of  a  hair  in 
his  fingers. 

The  boys  saw  it,  but  wondered  what  that  hair  could 
have  to  do  with  the  lameness  of  the  horse. 

"It  is  not  the  right  color,"  declared  the  doctor. 
"You  see  it  is  white,  instead  of  being  the  color  of  the 
other  hairs  here." 

Despite  himself  Frank  felt  his  anger  rising.  How 
could  the  color  of  a  hair  make  the  horse  lame?  Did 
the  man  take  him  for  a  fool  because  he  was  a  boy? 

The  three  boys  exchanged  glances,  and  Harry  made 
a  threatening  gesture  at  the  back  of  the  doctor's  head. 

"I  see  the  hair  is  white,  sir,"  said  Frank,  his  voice 
cold  and  hard ;  "but  I  scarcely  think  a  white  hair  could 


68  What  a  Hair  Can  Do. 

make  my  horse  go  lame.  I  know  I  am  a  boy,  but  I 
do  not  like  to  be  taken  for  a  fool." 

The  doctor  looked  up  and  saw  the  indignation  ex- 
pressed on  the  faces  of  the  three  lads.  Then  he 
chuckled  in  a  singular  way  and  said : 

"Wait  till  I  get  through,  young  man.  I  do  not  take 
you  for  a  fool  ordinarily,  but  you  can  easily  make  a 
fool  of  yourself  over  this  matter." 

He  had  taken  the  short  white  hair,  which  was  very 
coarse,  in  his  fingers,  having  separated  it  from  the 
others. 

"Notice  the  peculiar  place  where  this  hair  seems  to 
grow,"  he  directed.  "It  is  not  a  part  of  the  fetlock, 
but  the  fetlock  hid  it  from  view.  I  am  going  to  pull 
this  hair  out,  but  first  I  want  you  to  notice  that  there  is 
another  hair,  it  seems,  on  the  other  side  of  the  ankle, 
and  it  is  just  like  this.  See  it?" 

The  boys  saw  it. 

"In  a  moment  you  won't  see  it,"  declared  the  doctor, 
as  he  adjusted  the  tweezers,  getting  a  careful  grip  on 
the  end  of  the  hair.  "Here  it  comes." 

Then  he  quickly  drew  it  out  and  Nemo  started  a 
bit,  but  was  quieted  by  Grody. 


What  a  Hair  Can  Do.  69 

"Young  man,"  said  the  doctor,  "look  at  this.  This 
hair  appeared  to  be  about  an  inch  in  length,  but  now  it 
is  three  inches  long.  It  is  not  broken  off,  and  yet  it 
has  no  root.  I  will  guarantee  there  is  not  another  hair 
on  this  horse  like  it !  I  will  guarantee  it  did  not  grow 
on  this  horse !  I  will  guarantee  it  was  what  made  this 
horse  lame!  And  I  do  not  want  my  fee  if  this  horse 
shows  any  lameness  two  hours  from  now !" 

The  boys  were  astonished,  as  their  faces  indicated. 

"But,  doctor,  I  do  not  understand!"  cried  Frank. 
"You  must  explain.  How  could  a  hair " 

"I  will  explain.  It's  an  old  trick,  but  one  seldom 
tried.  This  hair  came  from  the  tail  of  a  white  horse. 
It  was  threaded  into  a  long,  keen  needle.  The  fellow 
who  got  at  your  horse  yesterday  was  an  expert.  With 
one  jab  of  that  needle  he  passed  the  hair  through  the 
flesh  just  back  of  this  cord.  It  went  in  at  one  side, 
and  came  out  on  the  other.  After  that,  while  he  was 
pretending  to  look  at  the  horse's  feet,  he  clipped  off  the 
ends,  and  the  hair  was  left  in  there.  It  could  remain 
a  day  or  so  without  doing  any  particular  injury,  but  it 
was  bound  to  make  the  horse  lame  as  soon  as  he  used 


70  What  a  Hair  Can  Do. 

that  leg  much.  If  it  had  been  left  there  permanently 
it  might  have  ruined  the  horse.  That  is  all,  young 
man." 

"Why  was  a  white  hair  chosen,  doctor?** 

"The  fellow  felt  sure  it  would  not  be  noticed,  and 
yet  he  could  quickly  locate  it  by  its  color  when  the 
time  came  for  him  to  cure  your  horse  of  its  lameness." 

Once  more  the  boys  looked  at  each  other,  and  this 
time  it  was  plain  they  realized  there  were  some  things 
they  did  not  know. 

"Doctor,"  said  Frank,  promptly,  "I  wish  to  beg  your 
pardon.  I  believe  I  said  something  rather  hastily,  but 
now  I  wish  to  say  that  you  know  your  business  thor- 
oughly." 

The  doctor  smiled,  and  closed  his  case. 

"I  have  been  in  the  business  all  my  life,"  he  said, 
"but  I  expect  to  continue  to  learn  something  new  about 
it  as  long  as  I  live.  I  will  say  that  I  doubt  if  I  should 
have  seen  what  was  the  matter  with  your  horse  if  you 
had  not  told  me  of  the  fellow  you  believed  had  lamed 
him  and  how  the  horse  kicked  up  a  racket  when  the 


What  a  Hair  Can  Do.  71 

man  was  in  the  stall.  That  set  me  to  looking  for 
tricks,  and  I  found  the  hair." 

Frank  offered  to  pay  the  doctor,  but  he  refused  to 
take  it  then,  saying : 

"Here's  my  card,  young  man.  If  your  horse  is  all 
right  this  afternoon  you  may  send  me  five  dollars. 
You  may  need  me  again  some  time." 

Then  he  strode  out  of  the  stable,  flung  the  case  un- 
der the  seat,  scrambled  into  his  carriage,  caught  up  the 
reins,  and  away  he  went  in  a  hurry. 

"Well,  may  I  be  farred  and  tethered — I  mean  tarred 
and  feathered!"  cried  Harry  Rattleton.  "I  never  saw 
anything  like  that  before." 

"Nor  I,"  confessed  Jack  Diamond.  "It's  astonish- 
ing! I  have  learned  something  to-day  that  I  nevei 
knew  before.  I  never  would  have  dreamed  that  a 
hair  could  lame  a  horse  in  that  way!" 

"You  want  to  look  out  for  Nemo  now,"  said  Harry 
"and  not  let  that  chap  get  at  him  again." 

"I  mean  to,"  asserted  Frank.  "I  have  sent  for  m) 
colored  boy,  Toots,  to  come  on  and  keep  watch  hen 


72  What  a  Hair  Can  Do. 

when  Grody  is  unable  to  do  so.  Till  he  gets  here, 
Grody,  I  want  you  to  watch  Nemo  like  a  hawk.  I 
hardly  think  the  whelp  will  try  another  trick,  but  there 
is  no  telling.  I  gave  him  a  bad  thumping." 

"But  not  half  what  he  deserved!"  cried  Diamond. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

PRINCE   AND   THE   EAVESDROPPER. 

Nemo's  lameness  seemed  to  vanish  as  if  by  magic, 
and  Frank  was  well  satisfied.  Grody  took  the  utmost 
care  of  Nemo  till  Toots  arrived. 

The  colored  boy  was  delighted  to  come  on  to  New 
Haven,  and,  as  he  was  a  lover  of  horses,  his  new  occu- 
pation suited  him  very  well.  When  Frank  could  not 
find  time  to  take  the  horse  out  for  his  daily  exercise 
Toots  did  it. 

One  evening  a  party  of  students  gathered  in  Dia- 
mond's room.  He  had  invited  them  there  to  show 
them  his  new  bulldog. 

Diamond  had  a  fad,  and  it  was  dogs.  His  dog  had 
caused  trouble  between  Diamond  and  Merriwell  early 
in  their  college  career  by  taking  a  strip  out  of  Frank's 
trousers.  That  dog  had  received  mortal  injuries  in  a 
fight,  and  now  Diamond  had  another  dog. 

"Isn't  he  a  beauty !"  cried  Jack,  as  he  displayed  the 


74         Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper. 

ugly-looking  brute.  "Look  at  that  head  and  those 
jaws!  He  comes  from  a  line  of  gladiators/' 

"What  do  you  call  him,  Diamond  ?"  asked  Ben  Hal- 
liday. 

"Prince." 

"Put  not  thy  trust  in  princes,"  croaked  Dismal  Jones. 

"Is  he  kind?"  asked  Bandy  Robinson. 

"Oh,  he  has  a  sunny  disposition,"  assured  Jack, 
smiling. 

"A  sunny  disposition,"  chirped  Griswold,  from  the 
top  of  the  table,  upon  which  he  had  climbed  so  that  he 
might  be  out  of  the  way.  "By  that  I  presume  that 
you  mean  he  will  make  it  hot  for  any  other  dog  he  may 
tackle." 

"Hold  on,  Danny,  old  man !"  cried  Jack,  reprovingly. 
"Haven't  I  treated  you  right?" 

"Not  lately,  but  if  you've  got  any  beer  in  the  coop 
you  can." 

"That  gives  me  a  pain!"  cried  Robinson. 

"You  must  have  been  eating  window  glass,"  chuckled 
Griswold.  "That's  how  you  happen  to  feel  the  pane." 

"You  ramed  little  bunt — I  mean  you  blamed  little 
runt!"  exclaimed  Rattleton,  catching  Danny  by  the 


Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper.          75 

neck.  "If  you  keep  up  this  reckless  punning  you'll 
receive  a  check  some  day." 

"I  hope  so,"  was  the  instant  retort.  "I'm  broke, 
and  I  sent  to  the  governor  for  one  to-day." 

"Let  him  alone,  Harry,"  advised  Merriwell,  laugh- 
ing. "You  simply  make  him  worse  by  talking  to  him." 

"That's  the  only  thing  I  have  against  Griswold," 
declared  Jack.  "He  will  pun  in  the  most  reckless  man- 
ner at  all  times.  Some  of  his  jokes  are  not  what  they 
are  cracked  up  to  be." 

"Like  the  eggs  we  used  to  get  down  at  Mrs.  Har- 
rington's when  we  were  freshmen,"  grinned  Griswold. 

"Even  the  vilest  sinner  may  repent  and  be  forgiven," 
came  solemnly  from  Dismal  Jones.  "There's  a  faint 
ray  of  hope  for  Griswold." 

"But  it's  mighty  dim,"  declared  Robinson. 

Once  more  attention  was  given  to  Jack's  dog,  and 
Diamond  pointed  out  the  animal's  fine  features. 

"When  are  dogs  at  their  best?"  asked  Halliday, 
seriously. 

"In  winter,"  Griswold  instantly  put  in.  "There 
are  no  flies  on  them  then." 

"Smother  him!"  howled  Robinson,  wildly. 


76          Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper. 

"Smother  time,"  cackled  Danny,  as  he  slipped  off 
the  table  and  dodged  around  a  chair  to  get  out  of  reach. 

Halliday  caught  up  a  pair  of  scissors  and  pretended 
to  sharpen  them,  looking  at  Griswold  as  if  he  meant  to 
shed  his  gore. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Danny  "Going 
into  the  scissors-grinding  business?  It's  great  when 
things  are  dull." 

It  was  plain  that  Danny  could  not  be  suppressed,  and 
so  the  boys  tried  to  ignore  him.  Prince  was  admired 
some  more,  and  then  Halliday  picked  up  a  banjo,  put 
it  in  tune,  and  sang  a  song. 

"Your  voice  is  somewhat  off  color  to-night,  old 
man,"  observed  Robinson,  "and  I  think  you  skipped  a 
bar." 

"You  don't  know  him,"  cried  Griswold,  instantly. 
"I  was  out  with  him  last  night  and  he  didn't  skip  any." 

Then  almost  every  other  fellow  in  the  room  grabbed 
up  something  and  threw  it  at  Danny,  who  could  do 
nothing  but  shield  his  face  and  take  the  pelting  he  re- 
ceived. 

"Diamond  is  a  dog  crank,  and  Merriwell  is  a  horse 


Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper.          77 

crank,"  said  Robinson.  "By  the  way,  I  hear  you  think 
of  racing  your  horse  this  spring,  Merriwell  ?" 

"Who  told  you  that?"  asked  Frank. 

"Who  told  me  ?  Oh,  I  don't  know.  Is  it  a  secret  ? 
I  think  I  have  heard  several  fellows  speak  of  it." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  as  it  is  a  secret/'  said  Frank. 
"I  may  try  him  in  some  small  country  race,  if  I  get  a 
good  opportunity ;  but  I  am  not  likely  to  have  much  of 
a  chance,  between  baseball,  rowing,  and  my  studies. 
I'm  kept  pretty  busy." 

"The  only  wonder  to  me  is  that  you  get  time  to 
study  at  all,"  declared  Halliday.  "I  never  before 
saw  a  fellow  who  could  carry  on  so  many  things  at  the 
same  time  and  make  successes  of  them  all." 

"I  hear  two  more  men  have  been  dropped  a  class," 
said  Diamond. 

"That's  right,"  sighed  Jones.  "Dorman  and  Street 
have  departed  hence.  May  peace  go  with  them." 

"Poor  old  Easy!"  exclaimed  Robinson.  "He  was 
a  fine  fellow,  but  he  was  altogether  too  easy.  He 
wouldn't  skin,  and  he  couldn't  keep  up  with  the  push." 

"There  are  some  other  fellows  who  are  bound  to  go 


78          Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper. 

sooner  or  later,"  observed  Rattleton.     "I  can  name 
several." 

"Both  Harris  and  Ditson  are  bound  to  get  it  in  the 
neck,"  said  Griswold.  "They  are  skinners  of  the  worst 
kind." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Halliday.  "Ditson  is  an  ex- 
pert at  it.  He  spends  more  time  and  ingenuity  in  con- 
cocting schemes  to  fool  the  examining  tutor  or  pro- 
fessor than  it  would  take  to  learn  his  subjects  ten  times 
over." 

"Sure's  you're  born!"  exclaimed  Jones.  "Why,  he 
has  his  finger  nails,  cuffs,  and  the  palms  of  his  hands 
covered  with  writing  and  diagrams  every  time  he 
knows  he  is  to  be  called  up,  and  in  this  way  he  always 
succeeds  in  making  a  clean  rush." 

"Harris  knows  something  about  photography,"  said 
Halliday,  "and  he  is  continually  making  minute  pic- 
tures of  diagrams  and  writing,  which  he  arranges  on 
little  tabs,  which  he  can  hold  in  his  palm.  He  seldom 
flunks,  but  he'll  trip  some  time." 

"Hanged  if  I  can  see  why  fellows  should  work  so 
hard  to  fool  tutors  or  professors  when  they  might  learn 


Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper.          79 

all  that  was  required  of  them  without  half  the  trouble," 
cried  Harry. 

"That  is  easy  enough  to  explain,"  smiled  Merriwell. 
"Harris  is  a  natural  gambler.  He  delights  in  excite- 
ment and  danger,  and  he  actually  enjoys  taking  such 
desperate  ventures." 

"Well,  there  is  something  in  that,"  laughed  Rattle- 
ton.  "I  never  regarded  it  that  way  before.  I'll  be 
fanged  if  there  isn't  hascination  in  it — no,  I'll  be  hanged 
if  there  isn't  fascination  in  it !" 

"It's  too  bad  this  matter  was  mentioned,  fellows," 
said  Merriwell,  with  pretended  seriousness.  "I  regret 
it  very  much." 

"Why?"  asked  Robinson,  curiously. 

"Notice  how  excited  Rattleton  has  become  over  it? 
He's  not  quite  such  a  sport  as  Harris,  but  he  had  rather 
take  chances  on  anything  than  eat,  and  it's  ten  to  one 
he'll  be  skinning  within  a  week." 

"Sometimes  a  fellow  has  to  skin,"  declared  Gris- 
wold. 

"Did  you  ever,  Danny?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Did  I?  Well!  I  have  a  patent  scheme  of  my 
own." 


8o          Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Rattleton,  eagerly. 

"Why,  I  have  a  box  of  chalk  crayons  which  I  bought 
for  myself.  I  have  soaked  them  in  alum  water  till 
they  are  hard,  and  I  usually  have  several  of  them  about 
my  person.  They  are  covered  with  diagrams  and 
everything  that  may  prove  interesting  or  necessary. 
But  I  want  to  tell  you  something.  I  never  use  'em  un- 
less I  am  driven  to  the  wall." 

"By  that  he  means  the  blackboard,"  laughed  Halli- 
day. 

"And  you  were  talking  about  Harris  and  Ditson 
being  skinners !"  came  reproachfully  from  Jones.  "My 
dear  young  man,  there  is  a  place  that  burneth  with  fire 
and  brimstone!" 

"That  is  reserved  for  liars,"  chuckled  Danny.  "Jones, 
beware,  any  moment  may  be  your  next." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Jones,  sadly.  "I  am  sure 
I  shall  not  live  to  see  another  day — if  I  die  to-night." 

"Gentleman,"  said.  Merriwell,  "death  is  a  grave  sub- 
ject to  jest  upon.  You'd  better  bury  it." 

"That's  all  right,"  put  in  Robinson.  "If  he  catches 
cold  any  of  us  may  go  to  coffin." 

"I'll  not  undertaker  pun,"  murmured  Rattletoa, 


Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper.          81 

Then  there  was  a  deathlike  silence,  an  the  lads  all 
looked  at  one  another  reproachfully. 

"Let's  change  the  subject,"  cried  Diamond.  "Speak- 
ing of  Ditson,  I  believe  he  claims  to  have  blue  blood  in 
his  veins.  Says  his  ancestors  came  over  on  the  May- 
flower, and  were  among  the  first  to  settle  in  this  coun- 
try." 

"They  may  have  settled,"  said  Griswold,  "but  none 
of  his  family  has  ever  settled  since  that  time.  They 
owe  everybody  that  will  trust  them." 

"Ditson  has  stuck  his  friends  right  and  left  since 
coming  to  Yale,  till  he  has  not  a  friend  left,"  said  Rob- 
inson. 

"Why,  he  owed  Hartwick  several  hundred  dollars 
when  Hartwick  left,"  declared  Diamond. 

"Just  the  same,  Hartwick  is  back  in  New  Haven 
and  in  is  chummy  with  Ditson  again,"  asserted  Jones. 

Merriwell  displayed  some  interest. 

"How  do  you  know  he  is  chummy  with  Ditson?" 
he  asked. 

"I  have  seen  them  together!" 

"That  means  something!"  cried  Rattleton,  excitedly. 


82          Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper. 

"Those  pads  are  cotting — I  mean  those  cads  are  plot- 
ting1! You  want  to  look  out  for  trouble,  Merry!" 

"I  will!"  exclaimed  Frank.  "Ditson  is  treading  on 
dangerous  ground.  If  he  makes  a  break,  I'll  descend 
on  him.  I  have  been  easy  with  a  chap  of  his  treach- 
erous nature  quite  long  enough." 

"Too  long!"  burst  fiercely  from  Diamond.  "If  I 
had  been  in  your  place  I'd  ended  Mr.  Ditson' s  career 
long  ago." 

"I  don't  know -what  the  fellows  can  do  to  injure 
me,"  said  Frank. 

"They'll  find  some  way  to  give  it  to  you  if  you  don't 
watch  out,"  said  Rattleton.  "Perhaps  one  of  them 
hired  that  fellow  to  lame  your  horse." 

"Perhaps  so." 

"You  think  a  great  deal  of  that  horse/'  said  Jack. 
"You  want  to  be  constantly  on  your  guard  or  some- 
thing will  happen  to  it." 

"Toots  is  on  the  watch,  and  any  one  will  have  hard 
work  getting  the  best  of  that  darky.  He  is  about  as 
sharp  as  they  make  'em." 

"He  is  a  very  clever  coon,"  admitted  Harry;  "and 


Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper.  8? 

he  seems  to  know  his  business,  still  you  can't  tell  what 
may  happen." 

"I  wouldn't  have  anything  happen  to  Nemo  for 
worlds.  I  don't  quite  understand  why  I  think  so  much 
of  that  horse,  but  he  is  a  wonderfully  intelligent  crea- 
ture." 

"Don't  tell  that  you  care  so  much  for  him.  If  your 
enemies  were  to  find  it  out  they  would  scheme  to  fix 
Nemo." 

"I'd  have  no  mercy  on  the  person  that  injured  that 
horse." 

"What's  the  matter  with  your  dog,  Jack?"  asked 
Robinson.  "He  is  acting  in  a  very  queer  manner." 

Prince  was  sniffing  at  the  door,  whining  and  growl- 
ing, while  the  hair  on  his  neck  bristled  in  a  significant 
manner. 

Diamond  got  up  and  quickly  approached  the  door. 
In  a  moment  he  flung  it  open,  and  out  shot  Prince. 

There  was  a  sound  of  swiftly  retreating  feet,  a  clat- 
ter on  the  stairs,  a  scramble,  a  shout  of  pain  or  fear, 
and  a  sudden  blow. 

"Quick,  fellows !"  cried  Jack,  excitedly.  "Prince  has 
found  an  eavesdropper!" 


84          Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper. 

They  rushed  out,  they  sprang  down  the  stairs,  and 
at  the  foot  they  found  the  dog,  apparently  in  a  dazed 
condition,  but  with  a  piece  of  cloth  in  his  mouth. 

"Good  dog!"  cried  Jack.    "Where  is  he?" 

Prince  growled  and  chewed  away  at  the  piece  of 
cloth. 

"He  got  away,"  said  Frank.  "He  must  have  struck 
Prince  with  a  heavy  cane,  or  a  club,  for  we  heard  the 
blow.  The  dog  was  stunned,  but  he  held  fast  to  this 
piece  of  the  fellow's  trousers." 

"After  him!"  spluttered  Rattleton.  "He  may  not 
be  able  to  get  away!  We'll  try  to  capture  him!" 

But  the  effort  was  vain.  The  eavesdropper  had 
made  good  his  escape. 

After  a  little  time  the  boys  all  came  back  to  Dia- 
mond's room.  They  found  Jack  examining  the  piece 
of  cloth,  which  he  had  taken  from  the  bulldog  with  no 
small  difficulty. 

"It  is  from  somebody's  trousers,"  said  Jack,  seri- 
ously. "Whoever  the  sneak  was,  he'll  have  to  buy  a 
new  pair.  He  hit  Prince  a  frightful  blow  behind  the 
«ar,  but  the  good  old  fellow  held  fast  to  this  trophy." 


Prince  and  the  Eavesdropper.          85 

"If  we'd  nabbed  the  fellow,  we  wouldn't  have  done 
a  thing  to  him — not  a  thing!"  cried  Griswold. 

"See  if  any  of  you  fellows  recognize  this  piece  of 
cloth  as  belonging  to  the  clothing  of  any  chap  you 
know,"  invited  Diamond. 

They  all  examined  it. 

"If  I  mistake  not,"  said  Dismal  Jones,  "this  came 
from  a  certain  section  of  a  certain  individual's  trousers, 
and  the  section  to  which  I  refer  is  located  about  eight 
inches  south  of  the  back  strap." 

"And  the  fellow,"  exclaimed  Robinson,  "the  fellow 
is " 

"Roland  Ditson !"  finished  Rattleton. 

"In  that  case,"  said  Diamond,  "Merriwell's  enemies 
have  received  a  good  tip  concerning  his  fondness  for 
Nemo.  You  will  have  to  be  doubly  careful  about  that 
horse  after  this,  Frank." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    PLOT. 

If  Roland  Ditson  was  the  person  from  whose  trou- 
sers the  piece  of  cloth  had  been  torn  he  took  good  care 
to  destroy  what  he  had  retained  of  the  breeches  with- 
out delay,  for  they  were  never  again  seen  in  his  posses- 
sion. 

The  figure  on  the  cloth  was  not  pronounced  enough 
to  distinguish  it  in  a  manner  to  make  it  absolute  proof 
that  it  came  from  a  garment  owned  by  Roland. 

Nevertheless  Diamond  accused  Ditson  of  listening 
at  his  door,  but  Roll  vigorously  denied  that  he  had 
done  so.  Diamond  told  him  he  was  a  natural-born 
prevaricator,  and  let  it  go  at  that. 

But  Ditson  was  watched  like  a  hawk  by  the  boy 
from  Virginia,  for  Jack  felt  sure  the  fellow  was  up  to 
crookedness. 

Frank  Merriwell  knew  that  if  Ditson  had  been  lis- 
tening to  the  conversation  that  was  taking  place  in 


The  Plot.  87 

that  room  his  enemies  must  know  in  what  light  he 
regarded  Nemo. 

This  caused  Frank  to  caution  both  Toots  and  Grody 
to  redouble  their  vigilance  in  watching  over  and  car- 
ing for  the  splendid  creature. 

"Don*  yo'  worry  about  me,  Marser  Frank,"  assured 
the  darky  lad.  "Dat's  de  fines'  hawse  dat  dis  chile 
ebber  seen,  an'  I'se  gwan  ter  watch  ober  heem  lek  he 
wus  de  apple  ob  mah  eye." 

"I  have  decided  to  enter  Nemo  in  the  Mystic  Park 
races  at  Bethany,  Toots,"  Merriwell  declared,  "and  I 
think  I'll  let  you  ride  him,  my  boy." 

Toots  showed  two  rows  of  gleaming  ivories  and 
beamed  with  the  greatest  delight. 

"If  yer  done  dat,  Marser  Frank,  I'se  gwan  ter  win 
on  dat  hawse  jes  ez  shore  ez  yeh  bawn,  sar!"  he  cried. 
"I'se  done  rid  dat  critter  enough  teh  know  he's  a  won- 
dah,  sar.  Dat  hawse  is  wuf  a  forchune,  sar !" 

"If  you  win,  Toots,  I  may  give  you  a  chance  to  ride 
him  in  some  races  later  in  the  season." 

"If  I  don'  win  dat  race,  I  done  hope  I  nebber  dror 
annodder  bref,  sar!"  cried  the  darky  boy,  excitedly. 
"Dat'll  show  yo'  what  yo'  kin  do  at  de  Coney  Islan' 


88  The  Plot. 

races.  If  yo's  gwan  ter  gamble  on  dat  hawse,  yo's  a 
dead  sho'  winnar,  sar!" 

"I  am  not  much  of  a  gambler,  Toots,  but  I  may  back 
Nemo  for  a  little  something." 

"Yo'll  win,  Marser  Frank.  If  dis  darky  ebber 
knowed  what  he  wus  talking  about  yo'll  win!" 

Frank's  enemies  seemed  remarkably  quiet,  but  some- 
thing told  him  that  every  move  he  made  was  watched. 
This  was  true,  and  they  soon  knew  exactly  what  races 
he  intended  to  enter  Nemo  for,  and  that  the  darky  was 
going  to  ride  the  horse. 

One  night  Harris,  Hartwick,  Harlow,  Ditson  and 
Mike  Hogan  met  in  the  saloon  where  they  had  first 
formed  a  combine  against  Merriwell.  They  were  there 
by  appointment,  called  together  by  Hartwick,  who 
seemed  to  have  assumed  the  leadership. 

Hartwick  was  taking  no  chances  on  any  thin  parti- 
tions, and  so  he  secured  a  little  back  room  in  the  place, 
where  it  seemed  that  nothing  could  be  overheard  by 
any  one  who  might  chance  to  be  watching  them. 

Drinks  were  ordered,  and  when  they  were  brought 
and  the  waiter  had  departed  Hartwick  said: 

"Gentlemen,  we  may  as  well  get  down  to  business  at 


The  Plot.  89 

once.  I  have  called  you  together  to  make  arrangements 
for  striking  a  blow  at  our  common  enemy." 

"Well,  I  think  it's  erbout  time!"  growled  Mike 
Hogan.  "I've  been  wantin'  ter  do  something  fer  a 
long  while,  but  you  have  kept  holdin'  me  back." 

"You  have  been  too  much  on  the  jump,  my  friend," 
said  Hartwick,  scowling.  "If  we'd  let  you  gone  it 
alone  you'd  had  Merriwell  on  his  guard,  and  that 
would  have  ruined  everything." 

"It  strikes  me  that  Merriwell  is  on  his  guard  now," 
observed  Harris.  "He  acts  as  if  he  knew  there  was 
something  in  the  wind." 

"Well,  he  doesn't  know  what." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  either.  He  guards  that 
horse  as  if  the  animal  was  worth  its  weight  in  dollar 
bills." 

"Which  comes  entirely  from  the  fact  that  Hogan 
here  tried  to  knock  the  horse  out  once,"  declared 
Harlow. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,  either,"  said  Hartwick. 
"But  I  want  to  say  one  thing  here  and  now :  If  there's 
any  one  of  this  party  who  is  playing  double  and  car- 
rying information  to  Merriwell,  he'd  better  order  his 


90  The  Plot. 

own  coffin  without  delay,  for  he  is  bound  to  be  found 
out,  and  we'll  throw  him  cold  in  a  minute." 

He  looked  at  Ditson  in  a  most  significant  manner 
as  he  said  this,  but  Roll  showed  no  signs  of  guilt. 

"Well,  what's  yer  plan  of  war,  boss  ?"  asked  Hogan, 
impatiently. 

"Don't  get  in  too  much  of  a  hurry,"  scowled  Hart- 
wick. 

"We  know  Merriwell  intends  to  enter  Nemo  in  the 
Mystic  Park  races,  at  Bethany." 

"Yes." 

"That  is  the  time  to  get  at  him." 

"How?" 

» 

"He  has  money  to  burn.  Get  him  to  back  Nemo  for 
large  sums  for  any  of  the  first  three  positions.  Give 
him  all  sorts  of  odds,  if  necessary ;  but  get  him  to  chuck 
up  the  dough,  and  then  beat  him  out." 

"That's  all  right,"  growled  Hogan;  "but  where's 
the  dough  comin'  from  what  is  shoved  up  against  his 
good  stuff?" 

"Let  me  alone  for  that,"  said  Hartwick,  significantly. 
"I  know  a  way  to  get  it,  and  we'll  have  it  I  wish  we 


The  Plot.  91 

might  get  Merriwell  to  stake  his  entire  fortune  on 
that  horse.  We'd  end  his  career  at  Yale." 

Harris  laughed. 

"I'd  like  to  know  how  you  are  going  to  get  so  much 
money,  Hart?"  he  cried.  "Why,  I  had  to  lend  you 
twenty  as  capital  the  last  game  of  poker  you  entered." 

"Don't  let  anything  worry  you  if  you  don't  know  all 
about  it,  Sport,"  advised  Hartwick.  "You've  got  your 
twenty  back,  haven't  you?" 

"Yes." 

"Well,  you  can't  kick." 

"All  right;  but  I'm  afraid  your  scheme  won't  work 
out  very  well." 

"It  will,  just  as  hard,  if  we  can  depend  on  Mike  here 
to  make  sure  Merriwell's  horse  does  not  win." 

"Watcher  want  me  ter  do?"  asked  Mike. 

"Doctor  the  animal  at  the  last  moment,  if  you  can't 
buy  off  the  jockey." 

"That's  easy!  But  where  does  my  share  of  ther 
profits  come  in?" 

"You  shall  have  your  share,  don't  you  worry.  We'll 
have  that  all  arranged  in  advance." 

"Then  that  goes !    I  am  with  yer,  gents." 


92  The  Plot. 

"What  are  the  rest  of  us  to  do  ?"  asked  Harris. 

"There  will  be  something  for  all  of  us  to  do.  Dit- 
son  must  continue  to  play  the  spy  on  Merriwell." 

"And  that's  the  most  dangerous  job  of  all!"  cried 
Roll.  "You  know  what  came  near  happening  to  me 
the  night  I  found  out  Merriwell  intended  to  put  Nemo 
in  the  Mystic  Park  races.  I  was  nearly  chewed  up 
by  Diamond's  dog." 

"But  you  escaped  with  your  life,"  said  Harris. 

"Because  I  took  that  cane  with  the  loaded  end.  If 
it  hadn't  been  for  that  the  infernal  dog  would"  have 
eaten  me.  I  hit  him  an  awful  blow.  It  would  have 
killed  any  other  dog." 

"Well,"  said  Harlow,  "we'll  strike  a  different  kind 
of  a  blow  directly — one  that  will  do  more  than  lay 
out  a  dog." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

TAKING    CHANCES. 

It  was  the  day  of  the  spring  races  at  Mystic  Park, 
and  Bethany  was  rilled  with  strangers.  Horsemen, 
sporting  men,  sightseers,  touts,  race-track  gamblers, 
women  in  gay  attire,  and  all  the  different  kinds  of 
persons  usually  seen  at  a  country  horse  race  in  the  State 
of  Connecticut  were  on  hand. 

A  number  of  Yale  lads  had  come  up  to  Bethany  to 
attend  the  races.  The  most  of  them  were  friends  of 
Frank  Merriwell.  Some  of  his  enemies  were  there, 
also. 

Frank  had  brought  Nemo  up  himself,  and  he  scarcely 
slept  the  night  before  the  races.  He  felt  that  there  was 
danger  in  the  air. 

Nemo  had  been  entered  in  the  "free  for  all,"  and 
his  name  was  on  the  bills.  Frank  had  been  informed 
that  he  would  be  given  odds  that  his  horse  did  not  take 
a  purse.  He  had  received  an  anonymous  letter  ridicul- 
ing him  for  thinking  of  entering  such  a  horse.  He 


94  Taking  Chances. 

had  been  taunted  and  told  that  he  dared  not  stake 
money  on  Nemo. 

Merriwell  knew  well  enough  that  there  was  a  plot 
afloat,  and  it  seemed  that  the  scheme  was  to  make  him 
lose  money  on  his  horse.  If  he  had  been  timid  he 
would  have  hesitated  about  backing  Nemo  for  any- 
thing; but  the  ones  who  had  been  taunting  him  had 
reckoned  well  on  his  mettle,  and  they  had  succeeded 
in  pricking  his  pride  and  arousing  him. 

Frank  had  seen  Nemo  work  on  a  track  with  Toots 
in  the  saddle.  He  had  timed  the  horse  repeatedly,  and 
he  felt  confident  that  Nemo  could  not  fail  to  take  a 
position  if  he  were  in  proper  form  when  he  entered 
the  race. 

Frank  sent  for  money.  He  demanded  it.  His 
guardian  did  not  feel  like  refusing,  as  he  remembered 
that  his  last  effort  to  suppress  Frank  had  resulted  in  a 
most  painful  train  of  incidents,  the  culmination  being 
his  arrest  for  kidnaping  a  baby.  He  sent  Frank  a 
check  for  the  sum  desired. 

When  Bethany  was  reached  Merriwell  was  ap- 
proached by  a  tall,  thin  man,  who  wore  a  Prince  Albert 
coat  and  looked  like  a  parson.  This  man  introduced 


Taking  Chances.  95 

himself  as  John  Baldwin,  and  he  proved  to  be  very 
"smooth." 

Frank  knew  in  a  moment  that  the  stranger  was  try- 
ing to  catch  him  for  a  sucker.  He  felt  like  knocking 
the  man  down,  but,  instead  of  that,  he  bet  three  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars  against  a  thousand  dollars  that 
Nemo  would  take  a  purse  in  the  "free  for  all." 

John  Baldwin  departed,  apparently  looking  for  other 
bloods  who  wished  to  take  flyers.  But  Frank  was  to 
see  Baldwin  again.  The  man  came  back  and  in  the 
most  sneering  manner  possible,  offered  to  let  him  out 
of  his  bet  for  fifty  dollars.  He  told  Frank  that  Nemo 
was  a  "dead  one"  and  could  not  even  crawl.  The  re- 
sult was  that  Merriwell  bet  the  man  five  hundred  even 
that  Nemo  would  take  a  purse,  and  there  were  but 
three  purses  in  the  "free  for  all." 

After  Baldwin  departed  the  second  time  Frank  re- 
gretted that  he  had  not  booted  the  insolent  fellow. 

"Never  mind,"  thought  the  lad.  "I'll  win  his  cash 
all  right." 

In  the  morning  there  was  a  row  in  the  stable  where 
Nemo  was  kept.  Toots  was  found  vigorously  punish- 
ing a  flashily  dressed  negro. 


96  Taking  Chances. 

"Tek  dat,  yo'  dirty  brack  nigger!"  shouted  Toots, 
as  he  smashed  the  other  fellow  on  the  nose.  "Yo' 
cayn't  com'  'roun'  dis  chile  wid  none  ob  yere  'swinua- 
tions  an'  yore  offers  ob  money  to  throw  de  race!  I'll 
kick  part  ob  yore  panjaloons  clean  out  f rough  de  top 
of  yore  hade,  yo'  brack  son  ob  a  gun !" 

The  colored  boy  fought  like  a  furious  tiger,  and  the 
other  fellow,  after  trying  to  strike  back  a  few  times, 
took  to  his  heels,  leaving  a  smashed  silk  hat  behind 
him. 

"What's  the  matter,  Toots  ?"  asked  Frank,  who  had 
rushed  to  the  scene  of  the  conflict,  accompanied  by 
others. 

"Mattah,  sar?"  cried  Toots,  fiercely.  "Why,  dat 
brack  whelp  come  call  me  out  ob  de  stall  har,  an'  he 
says  to  me,  says  he,  'If  yo'  pulls  Nemo  so  he  don* 
take  a  purse  it  am  wuff  two  hundred  dollars  to  yo'.' 
An'  he  flashes  his  roll  ob  bills  in  mah  face.  I  didn't 
wait  fo'  no  mo'  conwersashun,  sar,  but  I  jes*  soaked 
him  a  dandy  under  der  ear." 

"Good  boy,  Toots!'  laughed  Frank.  "You're  all 
right!" 


Taking  Chances.  97 

"Well,  w'en  dey  fools  'roun'  dis  chile  dey  strikes  hot 
stuff,"  grinned  the  boy. 

Frank  knew  now  that  there  was  a  "job"  to  knife  him 
in  the  race.  Rattleton  and  Diamond  were  on  hand,  and 
they  took  turns  in  helping  Toots  keep  guard  over 
Nemo. 

Merriwell  was  angry.  He  went  out  looking  for 
John  Baldwin.  When  he  found  Baldwin  he  offered 
to  bet  all  the  money  he  had  about  him  that  Nemo  would 
take  either  the  first  or  the  second  purse.  Baldwin 
snapped  at  the  bet  in  a  manner  that  showed  he  believed 
he  had  a  "soft  thing." 

"You'll  go  back  to  Yale  broke,"  he  sneered. 

"Don't  let  that  worry  you,"  returned  Frank,  coolly. 
"It  strikes  me  that  the  fellow  who  is  furnishing  you 
with  cash  stands  a  chance  of  dropping  something." 

"You  say  that  very  mildly.    You're  scared  now." 

"If  I  had  more  money  about  my  clothes  I'd  put  it 
all  up." 

"That  shows  what  an  easy  thing  you  are.  I'll  take 
your  paper  against  my  good  money,  and  now  you  don't 
dare  do  a  thing." 

"How  much  do  you  want  to  risk  that  way?" 


98  Taking  Chances. 

"Any  sum  you  like." 

"I'll  go  you  for  five  hundred." 

"Done." 

Frank  had  made  the  original  selection  of  stake- 
holder, and  he  had  chosen  a  man  who  was  interested 
in  the  track,  but  was  known  to  be  perfectly  square. 
This  choice  had  proved  satisfactory  to  Baldwin. 

Once  more  this  man  was  hunted  up,  and  he  felt  it 
his  duty  to  caution  Frank.  The  boy  simply  smiled. 

"Don't  lose  any  sleep  about  me,  Mr.  Davis,"  said 
Frank,  quietly.  "It  isn't  necessary." 

Twenty  minutes  after  this  bet  was  made  John  Bald- 
win informed  Evan  Hartwick. 

"Good !"  cried  Hartwick,  fiercely.  "If  I  get  hold  of 
that  piece  of  paper  I'll  use  it  to  ruin  Frank  Merriwell 
at  Yale.  I  can  do  it!  Nemo  must  be  fixed  for  fair!" 

Then  he  rushed  away. 

"Oh,  well !"  said  Baldwin,  with  a  satisfied  smile ;  "I 
don't  care  which  way  the  wind  blows  now.  I  have 
made  my  commission  on  this  work  to-day,  and  I  have 
nothing  to  lose.  If  those  fellows  slip  up  in  their  plans 
it  won't  be  my  funeral." 

Then  he  lighted  a  cigar  and  strolled  away. 


Taking  Chances.  99 

Rattleton  and  Diamond  watched  Nemo  closely,  per- 
mitting Toots  to  get  an  hour's  sleep.  Then  the  col- 
ored boy  came  out  feeling  first  rate,  and  Merriwel! 
showed  up  to  take  his  friends  to  have  something  to 
eat 

"By  Jove !"  he  exclaimed,  with  a  happy  laugh.  "One 
of  you  fellows  will  have  to  loan  me  the  money  to  settle 
for  the  feed.  I've  staked  every  cent  on  Nemo,  and  I 
haven't  enough  left  to  purchase  a  sandwich." 

"Whew!"  whistled  Diamond.  "Haven't  you  been 
plunging  pretty  steep,  old  man  ?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know!"  smiled  Frank.  "We'll  have 
money  to  start  a  conflagration  with  when  we  return  to 
New  Haven," 

"I  think  so,"  agreed  Jack;  "but  there  are  slips." 

"Now,  Toots,"  said  Frank,  "we  are  going  to  leave 
Nemo  in  your  care  for  a  short  time.  You  know  what 
I  expect  of  you." 

"Yes,  sar,  an'  you  may  'pend  on  me,  sar." 

"All  right,  my  boy.     Come  on,  fellows." 

Away  the  three  went,  arm  in  arm,  laughing  and 
joking,  like  the  light-hearted  fellows  they  were. 

Ten  minutes  after  they  left  Toots  decided  to  give 


ioo  Taking  Chances. 

Nemo  some  water.  He  stepped  out  of  the  stall  for  a 
bucket.  As  he  picked  it  up  he  fancied  he  heard  a  sus- 
picious sound  inside  the  stall,  and  he  hurried  back. 

When  the  colored  boy  stepped  into  the  stall  he  saw  a 
tough-looking  young  man  in  a  plaid  suit  offering 
Nemo  an  apple.  It  was  Mike  Hogan. 

"G'wan  frum  dat  hawse,  man!"  shouted  Toots,  as 
he  flung  the  bucket  straight  at  Mike's  head. 

The  bucket  struck  Hogan,  knocked  him  down,  and 
he  lay  stunned  almost  beneath  the  feet  of  Frank  Merri- 
well's  racer. 

An  hour  later  the  starter's  flag  had  fallen  and  the 
"free  for  all"  at  Mystic  Park  had  begun. 

Among  the  spectators  were  three  lads  who  were  ex- 
citedly watching  the  beginning  of  the  race. 

They  were  Hartwick,  Harlow  and  Harris. 

"If  that  horse  is  doctored  I'm  a  fool!"  declared 
Harlow,  his  eyes  fastened  on  Frank  Merriwell's  Nemo. 

"He  must  be — he  must  be!"  palpitated  Hartwick, 
whose  eyes  were  bloodshot  and  whose  face  was  flushed 
so  that  it  betrayed  he  had  been  drinking  heavily. 

"Nemo  starts  all  right,"  said  Harris,  in  an  agitated 


Taking  Chances.  101 

voice.  "I  should  not  wonder  if  Harlow  were  right, 
Hartwick,  my  boy." 

"Then  Hogan  has  betrayed  me!"  came  gratingly 
from  Hartwick.  "If  he  has  I'll  have  his  life!" 

"Where  is  the  fellow?"  asked  Harlow.  "He  should 
be  on  hand." 

"That's  right,  where  is  he?"  echoed  Harris.  "He 
•has  not  reported." 

"But  he  was  sure  he  would  not  fail,"  said  Hart- 
wick. "He  had  everything  fixed  with  one  of  the 
stablemen,  and  he  said  he  knew  he  could  get  into 
Nemo's  stall." 

"All  the  same  I'll  wager  that  Frank  Merriwell  will 
come  out  on  top  again,"  fluttered  Harris.  "It  is  just 
his  luck.  Perhaps  he  has  outwitted  us  in  some  way." 

"No!  no!"  exclaimed  Hartwick,  with  sudden  sat- 
isfaction. "See — see  there!  Already  Nemo  is  drop- 
ping behind  Black  Boy.  Pawnee  is  in  the  lead,  Fanny 
D.  is  second,  Lightfoot  is  third,  and  now  Black  Boy 
has  pushed  ahead  of  Nemo !  Ha !  ha !  ha !  Everything 
is  all  right!  Hogan  has  done  his  work,  and  the  stuff 
is  beginning  to  tell  on  Merriwell's  racer  at  just  the 
right  time.  We'll  send  the  fellow  back  to  Yak  penni" 


102  Taking  Chances. 

less,  and  then  I  will  jump  on  him  with  his  paper.  I'll 
expose  him  as  a  race-track  gambler,  a  fraud,  a  swin- 
dler! I'll  ruin  his  college  career,  as  he  ruined  mine! 
But  I'll  not  be  satisfied  then.  I'll  hound  him  till  he 
is  weary  of  his  life!  I'll  make  him  remember  the  day 
he  dared  lift  his  hand  against  Evan  Hartwick!  I  can 
feel  his  blow  now !  It  left  a  mark  on  my  cheek.  That 
mark  is  not  there  now,  but  the  scar  is  on  my  heart! 
Nothing  can  cure  it  but  full  and  absolute  reprisal! 
This  is  my  first  triumph!" 

Hartwick  almost  frothed  at  the  mouth,  and  his  red- 
dish eyes  glared  as  if  there  were  a  glowing  furnace 
within  his  passionate  soul. 

Evan's  companions  looked  at  him  with  awe,  and 
Harris  shivered  a  bit,  drawing  a  little  away. 

The  passions  of  the  revengeful  lad  had  been  won- 
derfully aroused  by  the  liquor  he  had  taken,  and  he 
showed  at  his  very  worst  just  then. 

"Toots  does  not  seem  to  be  pushing  Nemo  as  he 
might,"  muttered  Harlow.  "The  boy  is  taking  it  easy. 
If  I  did  not  know  the  attempt  had  failed  I  should  think 
he  had  been  bought  off." 

"Pawnee  can't  hold  the  lead,"  declared  Harris.    "I 


Taking  Chances.  103 

am  willing  to  bet  all  I  have  that  he  will  not  take  the 
race." 

"Hang  Pawnee!"  snarled  Hartwick.  "I  do  not  care 
which  horses  secure  the  purses,  if  Merriwell's  animal 
is  not  one  of  them." 

"Well,  it  begins  to  look  as  if  you  were  safe,"  came 
with  some  satisfaction  from  Harlow.  "Black  Boy  is 
the  favorite  and  he  is  crawling  now.  Already  he  is 
neck  and  neck  with  Lightfoot." 

Hartwick's  hand  shook  as  he  adjusted  the  field 
glasses  he  held  and  brought  them  to  bear  on  the  racing 
horses. 

"It's  all  right.  I  know  it's  all  right !"  he  muttered, 
hoarsely.  "Lightfoot  is  holding  the  lead  on  Nemo. 
Frank  Merriwell's  horse  is  fifth,  and  the  animal  will 
not  hold  out  to  get  around  the  track.  I  believe  Nemo 
is  swaying  now.  The  horses  behind  are  gaining !  Ha ! 
ha!  How  it  will  wring  Merriwell's  heart  to  see  his 
beauty  come  in  last!" 

"This  is  early,"  cautioned  Harris.  "They  have  just 
reached  the  quarter  now.  Wait  till  they  pass  us  before 
you  begin  to  count  your  chickens,  old  man." 

The  spectators  grew  excited  as  the  racing  horses 


IO4  Taking  Chances. 

swung  around  the  half-mile  track  and  came  flying  down 
toward  the  judges'  stand  on  their  first  round.  Men 
waved  their  hats  and  cheered,  the  white  handkerchiefs 
of  women  were  fluttering. 

"Black  Boy!  Black  Boy!  He  is  the  winner  for  a 
thousand!"  roared  a  big  man  in  the  grand  stand. 

"Fanny  D. !  Fanny  D. !"  shouted  another.  "She 
is  taking  the  lead !" 

This  was  true.  Pawnee,  as  Harris  had  declared, 
proved  unequal  to  the  task  of  holding  the  lead.  In 
the  second  quarter  Fanny  D.  crept  alongside  and  gradu- 
ally forged  ahead,  for  all  that  Black  Boy's  rider  used 
whip  and  voice. 

Poor  old  Lightfoot  was  steadily  losing  ground,  and 
Hartwick  ground  his  teeth  as  he  saw  Nemo  come  into 
fourth  place.  Still  it  did  not  seem  that  Merriwell's 
horse  had  made  a  spurt. 

And  then,  as  the  horses  came  thundering  down  the 
track,  a  sudden  change  seemed  to  come  over  the  black 
boy  on  Nemo's  back.  He  leaned  far  forward,  and 
appeared  to  be  talking  into  Nemo's  ears,  which  were 
laid  almost  straight  back.  He  cut  the  air  with  his 


Taking  Chances.  105 

whip,  but  the  lash  did  not  fall  on  the  glossy  coat  of 
the  handsome  animal. 

"Look!"  palpitated  Harlow.  "See  Nemo!  The 
creature  has  awakened !  That  horse  is  all  right !  Hart- 
wick,  I  believe  Merriwell  will  secure  third  money,  after 
all." 

"Not  on  your  life!"  ground  forth  Evan,  his  eyes 
glaring.  "The  creature  is  doing  his  best  now." 

As  the  foremost  racers  shot  past  the  judges'  stand 
at  the  expiration  of  the  first  half,  it  was  seen  that 
Fanny  D.  had  taken  the  lead  away  from  Pawnee, 
while  Black  Boy  was  steadily  gaining.  Although 
Nemo  had  shown  a  streak  of  speed  he  had  not  grown 
dangerous. 

But  now  came  the  time  when  the  mettle  of  the  racers 
was  to  be  tested.  Black  Boy  responded  nobly  to  whip 
and  voice.  He  went  ahead  in  a  marvelous  manner.  He 
was  soon  nose  and  nose  with  Pawnee,  and  then  he  took 
second  place,  with  his  nose  at  Fanny  D.'s  flank. 

But  there  was  another  change.  Again  the  black 
boy  on  the  back  of  Frank  Merriwell's  racer  leaned 
forward  and  talked  into  the  ears  of  the  horse,  and 


106  Taking  Chances. 

then  came  a  spurt  that  caused  hundreds  of  specta- 
tors to  gasp  with  amazement. 

Pawnee  struggled  nobly  to  hold  third  place,  but 
Nemo  passed  him,  and  Evan  Hartwick  nearly  choked 
with  fury.  Then  it  was  seen  that  Nemo  was  gaining 
on  the  others.  He  crept  up  beside  Black  Boy  till 
they  were  nearly  even,  and  thus  the  two  animals  passed 
Fanny  D.  at  the  end  of  the  third  quarter. 

When  the  home  stretch  was  reached  Black  Boy  was 
leading  by  a  neck,  with  Nemo  second  and  Fanny  D. 
third. 

Evan  Hartwick  was  nearly  beside  himself  with  rage. 
The  language  that  came  from  his  lips  cannot  be  printed 
here.  In  vain  his  companions  tried  to  calm  him.  He 
cursed  them  both,  and  struck  at  them. 

Then  the  voice  of  another  person  was  heard. 

"I  slipped  on  the  trick,  boss.  They  caught  me,  and 
they  didn't  do  a  thing  to  me — not  a  thing !  My  head 
was  near  broke  and  they  made  me  take  a  bite  outer 
ther  apple  I  was  tryin'  to  feed  ther  horse.  It'd  killed 
me  if  they'd  made  me  eat  ther  whole  of  the  apple.  I'm 
sorry,  but " 


Taking  Chances.  107 

It  was  Mike  Hogan,  his  brutal  face  pale  and  drawn, 
as  if  he  were,  indeed,  ill,  and  a  bloody  handkerchief 
tied  about  his  head. 

"Your  head  was  near  broken!"  snarled  Hartwick. 
"You  bungling  fool!  I'll  finish  the  job!" 

And  then  he  hit  Mike  in  the  face  with  his  fist.  They 
grappled  and  fell,  and,  as  the  other  lads  were  trying 
to  pull  them  apart,  there  came  a  great  shout  that  an- 
nounced the  race  was  over.  The  crowd  was  heard 
cheering. 

"Which  won?"  was  the  question  Harlow  paused  to 
ask. 

"Nemo  came  in  first  by  a  full  length,"  replied  a 
spectator. 

Then  Hogan  was  dragged  off  Hartwick,  who  lay 
pallid  and  still  on  his  back,  looking  as  if  the  end  had 
come  for  him. 

Two  nights  later  a  jolly  party  gathered  in  Frank 
Merriwell's  room  to  offer  him  congratulations.  There 
were  speeches,  songs,  toasts  and  jests. 

"How  much  will  you  take  for  Nemo  now,  Merri- 


io8  Taking  Chances. 

well  ?"  asked  Jack  Diamond.  "I  want  to  buy  him  and 
send  him  South  to  my  father." 

"You  can't,"  laughed  Frank.  "Your  father  hasn't 
money  enough  to  buy  the  dear  old  boy." 

"But  what  are  you  going  to  do  with  him?"  asked 
Rattleton.  "You  must  think  of  the  future." 

"Not  now,"  smiled  Merriwell.  "To-morrow  is  my 
queen's  birthday,  and  I  am  thinking  of  the  present." 

Bruce  Browning  loafed  into  the  room. 

"Heard  the  news,  fellows?"  he  asked. 

"No;  what  is  it?"  cried  several  voices. 

"Hartwick's  been  arrested." 

"Arrested?    What  for?" 

"For  robbing  his  own  father  of  seven  thousand  dol- 
lars. He  knew  how  to  get  at  the  old  gentleman's 
dough,  and  he  swiped  it  several  days  ago.  He's  been 
burning  money  since  then." 

"Was  the  robbery  committed  before  the  Mystic  Park 
races?"  asked  Frank. 

"Sure,  my  boy." 

"Then  that  explains  why  the  mysterious  man  in 
black  followed  me  up  and  drove  me  into  so  many  bets. 


Taking  Chances.  109 

He  had  Hartwick's  money,  and  Hartwick  was  behind 
the  entire  game.  Well,  all  his  plots  miscarried  and  he 
got  it  in  the  neck  at  last." 

"Which  served  him  right,"  declared  Jack  Diamond, 
with  satisfaction. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

A    STRONG    ACCUSATION. 

After  the  great  horse  race  matters  moved  along 
smoothly  for  some  time. 

Frank  worked  hard  over  his  studies  and  made  fine 
progress. 

He  did  not  dare  race  Nemo  again,  for  the  college 
authorities  would  not  permit  it,  in  the  face  of  what  had 
been  said  about  betting. 

Frank  had  gotten  rid  of  some  of  his  enemies  for  the 
time  being,  but  there  were  others,  those  who  could 
not  stand  it  to  see  him  become  such  a  general  hero. 

One  evening  a  crowd  of  these  gathered  in  a  resort 
known  as  Jackson's.  All  had  been  drinking  freely, 
and  it  was  not  long  before  every  tongue  was  loosened. 

In  the  crowd  were  several  students  that  my  old 
readers  have  met  before.  They  included  a  hot-headed 
lad  named  Tom  Thornton,  a  fussy  fellow  called  Puss 
Parker,  and  Fred  Flemming,  Willis  Paulding,  Andy 
Emery  and  Tad  Horner. 


A  Strong  Accusation.  1 1 1 

Earlier  in  the  evening  they  had  met  at  Morey's,  but 
found  they  could  not  talk  privately  there,  as  the  place 
was  filled  with  students. 

Then  Thornton  had  given  them  the  tip  to  go  down 
to  Jackson's,  a  place  sometimes  patronized  by  the  stu- 
dents, although  it  did  not  exclude  the  general  public. 

Jackson's  was  known  as  a  "joint,"  and  very  few  of 
the  college  lads  cared  to  have  it  known  that  they  ever 
went  there;  but  it  was  a  place  where  a  private  room 
could  be  obtained  in  which  to  drink,  gamble,  or  carouse, 
and  for  this  reason  it  appealed  to  a  certain  class  of  stu- 
dents. 

It  was  in  this  place  that  Frank  had  exposed  the 
gambler,  Rolf  Harlow,  and  broken  up  the  game  by 
which  Harlow  and  Harris  were  bleeding  a  certain 
number  of  "lambs." 

In  getting  together  his  party,  Thornton  had  chosen 
the  ones  who  seemed  to  have  sympathy  with  himself 
and  Fred  Flemming,  or  held  a  grudge  against  Frank 
Merriwell. 

Merriwell's  name  had  not  been  mentioned  until  all 
had  indulged  very  freely  in  wine,  Thornton  being  the 
most  generous  in  "blowing  off." 


112  A  Strong  Accusation. 

Then  came  a  discussion  about  college  sports,  over 
which  all  had  grown  more  or  less  heated.  At  length 
Merriwell's  name  was  mentioned,  and  then  Thornton 
declared  Frank  a  cad. 

"By  Jawve!"  drawled  Willis  Paulding,  allowing 
cigarette  smoke  to  escape  from  his  mouth  as  he  spoke, 
"I  agree  with  you,  Thornton,  don't  yer  'now.  I  nevah 
could  bear  that  fellaw  Merriwell." 

Tad  Horner  gave  a  sniff. 

"Merriwell  would  feel  bad  if  he  knew  it,"  observed 
Tad,  sarcastically.  "It  would  break  him  all  up." 

"That  would  not  make  the  least  difference  to  me, 
my  dear  fellaw,"  declared  Willis,  who  was  too  dense 
to  catch  the  sarcasm.  "I  have  nevah  twaveled  awound 
with  him." 

"I  have  noticed  that,"  grinned  Tad.  "You  have  per- 
mitted him  to  avoid  you  in  a  most  astonishing  manner." 

"What  have  you  against  Merriwell,  Thornton?" 
asked  Parker.  "I  didn't  know  you  were  so  down  on 
him.  You  both  played  on  the  football  team  last  fall." 

"And  Merriwell  made  a  record  for  himself  by  win- 
ning the  game  for  Yale,"  said  Andy  Emery. 


A  Strong  Accusation.  113 

Thornton  laughed  sneeringly,  showing  his  perfect 
white  teeth. 

"Merriwell  is  always  making  a  record  for  himself  at 
something,"  he  returned.  "I'd  rather  have  his  luck 
than  be  born  rich.  If  any  other  fellow  on  the  team 
had  obtained  the  ball  at  that  particular  moment,  he 
could  have  gone  through  Princeton's  line  as  well  as 
Merriwell  did,  for  Yale's  interference  was  simply 
marvelous,  and  a  clear  road  was  given  the  runner." 

Emery  shook  his  head. 

"I  think  your  memory  is  slightly  at  fault,  old  man," 
he  said.  "I  am  sure  Merriwell  bowled  over  at  least 
one  man,  and  dodged  one  or  two  others,  besides  going 
down  the  field  like  a  wild  engine,  with  Princeton's 
fastest  runner  at  his  heels  and  unable  to  tackle  him. 
Oh,  it  is  not  all  luck  with  Merriwell,  Thornton,  as 
you  would  acknowledge,  if  you  were  not  prejudiced." 

"You  talk  as  if  you  are  stuck  on  the  fellow !"  snarled 
Tom,  in  his  most  cutting  manner. 

"But  you  know  I  am  not.  I  have  held  away — have 
had  nothing  to  do  with  him." 

"And  that  is  the  reason  why  I  invited  you  down 
here  to-night." 


H4  A  Strong  Accusation. 

"So?  Well,  I  thought  there  was  something  more 
in  the  wind  than  a  simple  discussion  of  athletics. 
What's  up?" 

"Don't  be  in  a  hurry.  We'll  come  to  that  presently. 
Have  another  drink  all  around.  This  is  on  me.  Push 
the  button,  Horner.  I  want  to  order  more  fizz." 

"This  is  too  much!"  sighed  Tad,  as  he  pressed  the 
button  that  communicated  with  an  electric  bell  at  the 
bar.  "If  we  do  not  let  up,  we'll  be  in  rocky  shape  in 
the  morning." 

The  waiter  appeared,  and  the  wine  was  ordered. 
When  the  waiter  went  out,  after  serving  the  order,  he 
left  the  door  communicating  with  the  next  room  stand- 
ing open. 

"Gentlemen,"  cried  Thornton,  lifting  his  glass  of 
sparkling  "fizz,"  "here's  to  a  break  in  Merriwell's  luck. 
May  it  come  soon." 

All  drank. 

"I  can't  quite  agree  with  Thornton  that  it  is  all 
luck,"  said  Puss  Parker,  lowering  his  half-emptied 
glass.  "It  is  not  luck  that  enables  Merriwell  to  pitch 
on  the  ball  team." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !"  exclaimed  Tom.    "If  Heffiner's 


A  Strong  Accusation.  115 

arm  had  not  been  in  bad  condition,  Merriwell  would 
not  have  obtained  the  opportunity  when  he  did.  If 
he  had  not  obtained  it  then,  he  might  not  have  ob- 
tained it  at  all,  for  there  are  several  other  fellows 
who  can  twirl  quite  as  well  as  he." 

"They  think  they  can,  but  I  have  my  doubts." 

This  kind  of  talk  did  not  satisfy  Thornton,  and  he 
snapped : 

"I  must  say  I  didn't  suppose  you  were  one  of  that 
cad's  sycophants,  Parker!  I  fancied  you  had  more 
stamina  than  that.  Next  thing  you'll  be  saying  that 
when  his  horse  won  the  'free  for  all'  at  Mystic  Park 
it  was  something  more  than  luck." 

"From  what  I  have  heard,  I  presume  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  luck  connected  with  that  affair,  but  that  is 
outside  college  sports.  I  did  not  see  the  race,  but  I 
have  heard  that  all  sorts  of  tricks  were  tried  to  put 
Merriwell's  horse  out  of  the  race." 

"So  his  friends  have  reported;  but  I  take  no  stock 
in  it.  If  he  ever  enters  that  horse  in  another  race  he 
will  lose  his  socks  betting  on  the  beast." 

"We  were  talking  of  rowing  a  short  time  ago,"  said 
Emery.  "Let's  return  to  our  mutton.  Thornton  was 


Ii6  A  Strong  Accusation. 

kicking  because  Merriwell  has  made  a  try  for  the  eight, 
and  seems  to  stand  a  good  show  of  getting  there.  I 
don't  see  where  Thornton's  growl  comes  in.  He  can't 
pull  an  oar." 

"But  Flemming  can,"  came  quickly  from  Tom; 
"and  he  was  sure  of  a  position  on  the  eight  till  Merri- 
well went  for  a  place.  Like  Pierson,  who  captained 
the  ball  team  last  season,  Collingwood  seems  to  be  stuck 
on  Merriwell.  That's  why  he  has  thrown  Flemming 
down." 

"But  I  thought  Merriwell's  ideas  about  rowing  did 
not  correspond  at  all  with  Collingwood's  ideas?"  said 
Tad  Horner,  with  unusual  gravity.  "When  Merriwell 
was  captain  of  the  freshman  crew,  he  introduced  the 
Oxford  oar  and  the  Oxford  stroke.  He  actually  drilled 
a  lot  of  dummies  into  the  use  of  the  oar  and  into  some- 
thing like  the  genuine  English  stroke.  Everybody 
acknowledged  it  was  something  marvelous,  and  one 
newspaper  reporter  had  the  nerve  to  say  that  the  fresh- 
men had  given  the  'varsity  crew  a  pointer." 

"Oh,  yes,"  grated  Thornton,  bitterly.  "The  news- 
papers have  advertised  Merriwell  at  every  opportunity. 
Remember  what  a  howl  they  made  when  he  stopped 


A  Strong  Accusation.  117 

that  runaway  horse  and  rescued  Fairfax  Lee's  daugh- 
ter. Any  one  would  have  thought  the  fellow  had  done 
a  most  marvelous  thing,  and  since  then  he  has  been 
taken  into  the  very  swellest  New  Haven  society,  and 
he  is  lionized  as  if  he  were  something  more  than  a  mere 
snob.  It  makes  me  sick!" 

"There  is  still  some  mystery  about  the  fellow/'  said 
Parker.  "How  did  he  happen  to  know  so  much  about 
the  Oxford  stroke?" 

"I've  heard  that  he  was  at  Oxford  long  enough  to 
thoroughly  acquaint  himself  with  the  English  meth- 
ods," answered  Emery. 

"And  it  has  been  reported  that  the  fellow  has  traveled 
all  over  the  world,"  said  Horner.  "His  rooms  are 
decorated  with  all  sorts  of  strange  weapons,  trophies 
and  skins  of  wild  animals,  which  it  is  said  he  gathered 
in  his  travels." 

"Bah!"  sneered  Thornton.  "I  have  my  doubts 
about  his  ever  being  at  Oxford,  and  I  take  no  stock  at 
all  in  the  rest  of  that  guff.  It  is  barely  possible  that 
he  may  have  been  over  to  England,  but  the  yarn  about 
his  having  traveled  in  South  America,  Africa  and  Eu- 
rope, is  the  biggest  sort  of  rot." 


n8  A  Strong  Accusation. 

"Well,  let  it  go  as  rot,"  said  Homer;  "you  must 
acknowledge  that  he  did  something  most  astonishing 
with  that  freshman  crew.  We  did  not  have  the  least 
idea  in  the  world  that  they  could  beat  us,  but  we  were 
not  in  the  race  on  the  home  stretch." 

"Oh,  we  thought  we  had  a  soft  thing,  that's  all.  If 
we'd  dreamed  we  had  a  hard  race  coming,  we'd  won 
all  right." 

"That  may  be,  but  I  am  not  so  sure.  Still,  if  Mer- 
riwell  could  do  so  much  with  a  lot  of  freshmen,  what 
might  not  be  done  if  the  same  methods  were  used  with 
the  'varsity  crew?" 

"Bah!"  cried  Thornton  again.  "That  sort  of  rot 
makes  me  sick!  Bob  Collingwood  has  his  own  ideas, 
and  he  will  not  accept  suggestions  from  any  one,  al- 
though I  think  he  was  a  fool  to  throw  down  Flem- 
ming  for  Merriwell.  Flem  did  great  work  on  the  foot- 
ball team,  and  he  is  in  condition  to  make  a  special 
effort  at  rowing  this  spring,  while  Merriwell  is  obliged 
to  play  ball  as  well." 

"I  don't  see  how  Merriwell  does  so  many  things  and 
docs  them  so  well,"  confessed  Tad  Homer. 

"Oh,  he  is  one  of  the  chaps  who  has  the  nerve  to 


A  Strong  Accusation.  119 

try  anything,  and  will  stumble  through  anything  after 
a  fashion.  Nine  times  out  of  ten  those  fellows  are 
never  heard  from  after  they  leave  college.  The  fellow 
who  takes  some  branch  of  athletics  at  college  and  sticks 
to  it  is  likely  to  select  some  line  of  business  when  he 
has  graduated,  and  stick  to  that.  He  is  not  diving 
into  everything,  and  making  a  success  of  nothing." 

"But  Merriwell  seemed  to  be  diving  into  everything, 
and  making  a  success  of  everything.  He  is  put  up 
differently  than  most  fellows." 

"He  showed  his  caddishness  in  introducing  the  Eng- 
lish oar  and  stroke  when  he  was  captain  of  the  fresh- 
man crew.  He  would  ape  things  English,  and  in  that 
line  he  makes  a  failure,  at  least." 

"By  Jawve !  that  is  wight,  don't  yer  'now,"  drawled 
Willis  Paulding,  who  had  visited  London  once  on  a 
time  and  endeavored  to  be  "awfully  English"  ever 
since.  "He  has  not  cawt  the  English  air  and  expres- 
sion, don't  yer  understand.  He — aw — makes  a  weg- 
ular  failyaw  of  that,  deah  boys." 

"Oh,  say!"  cried  Tad  Homer,  "don't  pile  on  the 
agony  quite  so  thickly,  Paulding.  It  is  nauseating!" 

"Merriwell  may  not  try  to  ape  English  manners  and 


I2O  A  Strong  Accusation. 

speech,"  said  Thornton,  "but  he  is  a  cad,  just  the  sams, 
and  the  friends  he  has  made  here  at  Yale  are  a  lot  of 
thin-blooded,  white-livered  creatures.  Look  at  them! 
There  is  Bruce  Browning,  once  called  'King  of  the 
Sophomores/  but  cowed  and  bested  by  Merriwell,  to 
be  afterward  dropped  a  class.  There  is  Jack  Diamond, 
a  boastful  Southerner.  He  forced  Merriwell  to  fight, 
but  fawned  about  Merriwell's  feet  like  a  cur  when 
whipped." 

"You  lie,  sir!" 

By  the  open  door  a  supple,  well-built,  dark-faced 
lad  sprang  into  the  room.  His  eyes  were  flashing,  and 
his  teeth  came  together  over  his  words  with  a  click. 

It  was  Jack  Diamond  himself ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

A    FIGHT    AGAINST   ODDS. 

"Diamond!" 

"Great  Scott!" 

"Here's  trouble!" 

The  lads  about  the  table  sprang  to  their  feet,  giving 
utterance  to  these  exclamations.  Willis  Paulding  was 
the  only  one  who  did  not  say  anything,  and  he  failed 
to  speak  because  the  sound  seemed  to  stick  in  his  throat. 

Diamond's  manner  showed  that  he  was  fully  aroused 
by  what  he  had  overheard,  and  that  he  meant  "fight" 
was  evident.  The  hot  blood  of  the  Old  South  was  pul- 
sating in  his  veins  and  flaming  darkly,  like  a  danger 
signal,  in  his  face. 

Pointing  straight  at  Tom  Thornton,  Jack  slowly 
and  distinctly  said,  his  manner  showing  the  struggle  he 
was  making  to  hold  himself  in  check : 

"Mr.  Thornton,  you  are  a  liar !  More  than  that,  Mr. 
Thornton,  you  know  you  are  a  liar!" 


122  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

Thornton  quailed  a  bit,  and  then,  in  sudden  fury,  he 
flung  back : 

"And  you  are  an  eavesdropper,  Jack  Diamond. 
Eavesdroppers  seldom  hear  good  of  themselves!" 

The  muscles  of  the  Virginian's  face  twitched,  and 
his  clinched  hands  were  quivering. 

"By  accident  I  overheard  what  you  were  saying,"  he 
declared.  "I  was  looking  for  a  friend,  and  so  came 
into  this  place,  which  I  seldom  visit.  I  was  told  a 
party  of  students  had  gathered  here,  and  as  I  entered 
the  room  adjoining,  I  heard  my  name  spoken  by  you 
— I  heard  you  declare  that,  like  a  cur,  I  fawned  about 
Merriwell  when  he  had  whipped  me." 

"And  I  say  it  again!"  cried  Thornton,  hotly.  "It 
is  the  truth.  Your  boasted  Southern  courage  is  a 
sham.  You  have  shown  that." 

Diamond  walked  forward  to  the  table. 

"Mr.  Thornton,"  he  said,  "you  are  among  friends, 
and  I  am  alone,  but  I  brand  you  as  a  liar !" 

As  he  uttered  the  words  he  picked  up  a  partly 
emptied  glass  of  wine  and  dashed  the  contents  in 
Thornton's  face. 

"There!"  he  cried,  dashing  the  glass  to  the  floor; 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  123 

"I  have  expressed  myself!     You  cannot  mistake  my 
meaning,  sir!" 

Thornton  whipped  out  a  handkerchief  and  wiped 
the  liquid  from  his  eyes.  Then  he  dropped  the  hand- 
kerchief, and  caught  up  a  wine-bottle,  with  which 
weapon  he  leaped  at  Jack. 

Parker  caught  Thornton's  uplifted  arm  just  in  time   . 
to  keep  him  from  trying  to  break  the  bottle  over  Dia- 
mond's head. 

"Do  you  want  to  kill  him?"  exclaimed  Puss,  ex- 
citedly. 

"Yes,"  snarled  Thornton,  "I  will  kill  him!" 

"Pray  do  not  interfere  with  the  fellow,  Mr.  Parker," 
urged  Jack,  his  voice  shaking  with  passion.  "I  will 
take  care  of  myself." 

"You'd  better  get  out  of  here!"  came  fiercely  from 
Parker.  "You  have  no  business  here!" 

"I  have  business  in  any  place  where  I  am  lied  about 
and  insulted,  sir!  Let  him  alone,  and  I  will  agree  to 
give  him  all  the  fight  he  desires !" 

Now,  for  the  first  time,  Fred  Flemming  stepped  for- 
ward. He  was  a  big  fellow,  and  was  known  to  be  a 
fierce  fighter,  with  the  inclinations  of  a  bully. 


124  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

"I  think  we'll  give  you  a  thumping  before  we  let  you 
go,  Diamond,  just  to  teach  you  a  lesson,"  he  said,  in  a 
most  insolent  manner.  "I've  wanted  to  get  at  you  or 
your  friend  Merriwell  for  some  time." 

"You — you  get  at  Merriwell!"  flung  back  Jack. 
"Why,  he'd  do  you  up  with  his  right  hand  tied  be- 
hind him!" 

"You  think  so  because  he  did  you.  Well,  I  am  going 
to  break  your  face,  and  then  Merriwell  may  pick  it 
up,  if  he  dares." 

He  threw  off  his  coat  in  a  moment,  and  then  came  at 
Jack,  crying  to  the  others : 

"Close  the  door!  Don't  let  anybody  in  here  till  I 
have  fixed  this  sneak  as  I  will  fix  Merriwell  when  I 
get  at  him !  Close  the  door !" 

Willis  Paulding  started  to  obey,  but  before  he  could 
swing  the  door  shut  it  was  flung  open  with  such  vio- 
lence that  Willis  was  sent  tumbling  to  the  floor. 

Into  the  room  leaped  Frank  Merriwell,  and  he  placed 
himself  between  Diamond  and  his  would-be  assailant. 

"Wait  a  moment,  Flemming,"  he  said,  with  the  ut- 
most self-possession.  "It  is  not  necessary  for  you  to 
waste  your  energies  on  Mr.  Diamond." 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  125 

It  was  a  most  dramatic  tableau,  as  every  lad  stood 
motionless  and  staring  for  some  seconds. 

There  was  a  strong  contrast  between  Diamond  and 
Merriwell. 

Jack  was  literally  quivering  with  passion,  while 
Frank  actually  smiled  serenely  into  Flemming's  face, 
as  if  he  thoroughly  enjoyed  the  situation. 

But  those  who  knew  Merriwell  best  said  that  in 
times  of  trouble  he  was  the  most  dangerous  when  he 
smiled. 

"So  you  are  around!"  Flemming  finally  growled. 
"How  did  you  happen  in  here  ?  Were  you  playing  the 
eavesdropper  also?" 

"I  happened  to  be  passing  the  saloon,  and  I  thought 
I  saw  my  friend  Diamond  come  in  here,"  explained 
Frank,  calmly.  "I  wondered  what  could  bring  him 
into  such  a  place,  and  so  I  entered  likewise.  They  said 
he  had  come  back  here.  I  came  also.  That  is  how  I 
happened  to  arrive  at  precisely  the  right  moment." 

"You'll  find  it  was  precisely  the  wrong  moment!" 
cried  Flemming.  "Close  and  fasten  the  door,  boys! 
We'll  jump  on  these  two  cads,  and  do  them  up  now 
and  at  once!  Come  on!" 


126  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

"I  don't  know  but  it  will  be  a  good  time  to  settle  a 
few  old  scores  with  them,"  said  Emery,  becoming 
aroused.  "It  will  do  them  good  to  show  them  they 
can  be  licked!" 

"That  goes!"  shouted  Puss  Parker. 

"Six  to  two — three  to  one!"  laughed  Frank.  "Oh, 
well,  that's  not  so  bad.  Come  on,  my  brave  fellows! 
We'll  do  our  best  to  make  it  interesting,  eh,  Jack  ?" 

"Oh,  all  I  want  is  a  chance  at  Thornton !"  panted  the 
Virginian. 

Willis  Paulding  was  quivering  with  excitement.  He 
thought  he  saw  his  opportunity,  and  he  lost  no  time 
in  improving  it.  He  had  hated  Merriwell  from  the 
first,  but  never  had  he  dared  do  anything  to  injure 
Frank.  Now,  grasping  his  heavy  cane,  he  slipped  for- 
ward and  came  up  behind  Merriwell. 

Swish — crack ! 

The  cane  cut  through  the  air  and  fell  on  Merriwell's 
head,  dropping  the  lad  in  a  senseless  heap  to  the  floor. 

It  was  a  cowardly  blow,  but  it  put  Merriwell  out  of 
the  fight  in  a  twinkling,  for  he  was  stunned. 

"So  this  is  the  way  you  fight!"  cried  Diamond, 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  127 

wheeling  about  and  leaping  at  Willis,  who  gave  a 
scream  and  vainly  tried  to  escape. 

Jack  caught  the  fellow,  grasped  him  by  the  ears,  and 
flung  him  back  against  the  wall.  Thump!  thump! 
thump! — Jack  banged  the  head  of  the  helpless  wretch 
against  the  wall  till  it  seemed  that  Paulding's  skull 
would  crack. 

Willis  tried  to  scream  for  help,  but  with  the  very 
first  thump  his  tongue  was  caught  between  his  teeth, 
and  he  nearly  bit  it  in  two.  Blood  gushed  from  his 
mouth,  and  he  sunk  in  a  limp  heap  to  the  floor  as  Jack 
released  him. 

Diamond  turned  quickly,  but  not  in  time  to  escape 
Flemming,  whose  heavy  fist  caught  the  Virginian 
behind  the  ear. 

Down  Jack  went.  As  he  tried  to  get  up  Flemming 
kicked  him  over. 

The  sound  of  the  fight  had  aroused  those  in  the  front 
of  the  saloon,  and  several  came  hurrying  in. 

The  door  had  not  been  closed,  as  Flemming  had 
directed,  and  the  curious  ones  gained  easy  admission  to 
the  room. 

Among  the  foremost  was  Plug  Kirby,  a  tough  of 


128  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

the  town,  whom  Frank  had  once  whipped.  He  saw 
Frank  stretched  on  the  floor,  and  he  hoarsely  de- 
manded : 

"Who  done  that  job?  Who  hit  me  friend  Merri- 
well  ?  Show  me  der  blokie,  an'  I'll  punch  der  face  offen 
him  instanter!" 

Thrusting  out  his  chin,  Kirby  glared  around  at  the 
boys.  At  best,  he  was  an  ugly-looking  scoundrel,  with 
a  bullet  head  and  a  bulldog  neck. 

"So  you  are  one  of  Merriwell's  friends!"  sneered 
Flemming.  "That  speaks  well  for  Merriwell!" 

"Wat's  dat?"  snarled  Plug,  advancing  on  Fred. 
"Dat  Merriwell  is  white  ter  ther  bone,  an'  I  sticks  by 
him — see!  Dis  gang  has  done  him  dirt,  an'  I'm  goin' 
ter  punch  der  mugs  offen  der  whole  of  yer !" 

"Merriwell  should  be  proud  of  his  friends!"  cried 
Flemming,  scornfully.  "It  is  plain  that  he  has  been 
very  careful  in  his  selection !" 

"An5  it's  plain  ter  me  dat  Merriwell  has  been  took 
foul,  else  yer  never'd  knocked  him  out  dis  way.  I've 
been  up  ag'inst  him,  an'  he  could  lick  dis  whole  gang 
if  he  had  a  square  deal." 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  129 

Then  Kirby  pointed  straight  at  Flemming,  and 
fiercely  exclaimed : 

"I  t'ink  you're  der  bloke  w'at  done  him  dirt!  I'm 
goin'  ter  knock  der  packin'  outer  youse,  me  fine  chap !" 

He  rushed  at  Fred,  who  caught  up  a  chair  and  struck 
at  Kirby's  head.  Plug  dodged,  caught  hold  of  the 
chair,  and  wrenched  it  from  Flemming's  grasp. 

"Right  here  is  where  I  cleans  out  der  place!"  he 
shouted. 

He  swung  the  chair  aloft,  and  the  boys  made  a  rush 
t^  get  out  of  the  room. 

Whiz !— the  chair  flew  through  the  air,  striking  Fred 
Flemming  between  the  shoulders,  knocking  him  down 
instantly. 

Then  the  police  came  in  suddenly,  and  clubbed  Kirby 
into  a  helpless  condition,  while  all  the  others,  with  the 
exception  of  Merriwell  and  Diamond,  escaped  from 
the  place. 

Jack  was  examining  Frank's  wound  when  they  were 
both  placed  under  arrest. 

"What  is  this  for?"  demanded  the  young  Virginian. 
"What  have  we  done  to  merit  arrest  ?  Why  didn't  you 


1 30  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

take  those  fellows  who  got  the  better  of  us  in  such 
cowardly  ways?" 

"Don't  ask  questions!"  growled  one  of  the  officers. 
"You'll  have  a  chance  to  answer  a  few  when  yer  come 
before  the  judge  in  the  morning." 

Those  words  filled  Diamond  with  a  feeling  of  terror. 
He  knew  what  it  would  mean  if  they  were  brought  up 
before  a  magistrate  in  the  morning.  It  would  become 
known  that  they  had  been  arrested  in  a  place  like  Jack- 
son's, and  in  company  with  a  ruffian  of  Plug  Kirby's 
stamp.  Kirby  would  claim  that  Frank  Merriwell  was 
his  friend,  and  that  would  settle  everything.  Jack 
saw  that  it  meant  disgrace  and  expulsion  for  himself 
and  Merriwell.  Flemming  and  Thornton  would  be 
triumphant. 

Jack  was  very  proud,  and  it  made  him  writhe  with 
anguish  when  he  thought  how  heavily  such  a  blow 
would  fall  upon  his  parents.  For  a  moment  he  was 
quite  overcome. 

Jackson  came  into  the  room.  He  was  greatly  ex- 
cited, and  he  begged  the  officers  to  let  the  prisoners  go, 
for  he  knew  unpleasant  attention  would  be  attracted 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  131 

toward  his  place  if  it  became  publicly  known  that  two 
students  had  been  arrested  there. 

"It's  time  we  pinched  somebody  in  this  joint,"  said 
one  of  the  policemen.  "There's  been  more  crooked 
jobs  put  up  here  than  anywhere  else  in  the  city.  You 
oughter  lose  yer  license,  Jackson,  and  I  rather  think 
yer  will  this  time," 

Jackson  had  ordered  the  door  closed  to  keep  out  the 
curious  crowd  that  had  been  attracted  by  sounds  of  the 
conflict.  One  of  the  bartenders  was  standing  guard 
over  the  door. 

The  saloon-keeper  drew  one  of  the  policemen  aside, 
and  spoke  earnestly  and  excitedly  to  him.  The  officer 
shook  his  head,  and  replied: 

"We've  overlooked  things  that  went  on  here  till  it 
won't  do  no  longer,  Jackson.  There  has  been  com- 
plaints against  this  joint,  and  ye' re  lucky  that  we  don't 
pull  the  whole  shooting-match." 

The  other  officer  now  took  a  fair  look  at  Merriwell, 
who  was  sitting  up  and  feeling  tenderly  of  his  head. 

"Why,  hello!"  exclaimed  the  policeman.  "I  t'ink 
I  knows  you!" 

"Hello,  Magoon!"  returned  Frank,  rather  faintly. 


132  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

"I  hope  you  didn't  hit  me  that  crack  over  the  head 
with  your  stick?" 

"I  do  know  yer!"  cried  the  officer.  "Ye're  ther  boy 
what  stopped  ther  horse  and  saved  Fairfax  Lee's  girl! 
You' re  all  right!" 

"My  friend  there  says  we're  arrested,  Magoon. 
How  about  it?" 

"We  didn't  know  it  was  you,  but  ther  job  is  done 
now,"  said  the  policeman,  apologetically. 

"Well,  can't  this  matter  be  fixed  up?"  asked  Frank, 
anxiously.  "You  know  what  it  will  mean  to  me  if  I 
am  pulled  up  before  a  magistrate  in  the  morning. 
Everything  will  come  out,  and  then  I'll  be  expelled 
from  college." 

"That's  rocky,"  admitted  Magoon;  "but  what  can 
I  do?  I  can't  let  you  off  without  lettin'  the  others  go." 

"Well,  why  shouldn't  you  let  my  friend  Diamond 
go?  We  were  up  against  six  fellows,  and  it  seems  that 
we  got  the  worst  of  it.  Those  chaps  are  the  ones  who 
should  be  arrested." 

"But  we  didn't  catch  'em." 

"You  caught  us  because  we  had  been  foully  knocked 
out  by  the  crowd,"  declared  Jack.  "We  were  taken  at 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  133 

an  advantage,  and  did  not  have  any  kind  of  a  show. 
Now  are  we  to  suffer  while  the  ones  who  were  to  blame 
go  free?" 

"You  made  a  big  mistake  in  coming  into  this  kind 
of  a  joint,"  declared  the  officer,  severely.  "And  you 
were  arrested  at  the  same  time  with  Plug  Kirby,  a 
tough  of  the  lowest  order.  That's  what  gits  you  in  a 
hole.  If  we  lets  you  go,  we've  got  to  let  him  go." 

Then  Diamond  explained  how  Kirby  happened  to 
be  in  the  room,  and  Frank  added  light  to  the  matter 
by  telling  how  he  came  to  know  the  thug,  who  had 
been  hired  to  whip  him  once  on  a  time,  but  who  had 
received  a  severe  thumping  instead. 

«• 

"And  that  is  how  it  happens  that  he  claims  you  for 
his  friend?"  asked  Magoon,  grinning.  "You  ham- 
mered friendship  into  him?" 

"That's  right,"  said  Frank.  "He  has  been  ready  to 
do  anything  for  me  ever  since  that  night." 

"Well,  I  must  say  that's  the  first  thing  I  ever  knowed 
about  Plug  Kirby  that  made  me  feel  like  goin'  easy 
with  him!  And  he  was  fighting  for  you  against  the 
crowd?  I'll  have  a  word  with  Murphy." 

Two  of  the  officers  drew  aside,  while  the  third  stood 


134  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

guard  at  the  door.  After  a  few  moments,  Jackson  was 
called  up  by  Magoon,  and  the  trio  spoke  in  low  tones. 

Frank  was  keeping  watch  of  all  that  passed,  and 
he  saw  Jackson  take  something  out  of  his  pocket  and 
slip  it  into  Murphy's  hand. 

"That  lets  us  out,  Jack,"  said  Merriwell,  guardedly. 
"Jackson  has  fixed  it  with  the  officers." 

"If  you're  right,  we  are  dead  lucky,"  muttered  Dia- 
mond. "It  began  to  look  as  if  we  were  booked  for 
our  walking-papers." 

"Which  would  have  pleased  certain  young  gentle- 
men who  do  not  admire  us  very  much." 

"They  would  have  held  a  jubilee  over  it.  With  you 
out  of  the  way,  Flemming  would  have  gone  on  the 
crew.  He  has  suddenly  come  to  hate  you  because  he 
thinks  you  have  shut  him  out  from  that  position." 

"Scarcely  do  I  settle  with  one  set  of  enemies  before 
another  rises  up  to  make  it  interesting  for  me,"  said 
Frank.  "I  believe  I  have  more  enemies  than  any  other 
fellow  at  Yale." 

"And  you  have  more  friends.  Any  man  who  is  as 
popular  as  you  is  certain  to  have  enemies.  You  arouse 
the  envy  of  the  weak  and  shallow,  and  the  jealousy  of 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  135 

those  who  would  become  your  rivals,  but  are  incom- 
petent to  become  your  equals.  At  the  same  time,  you 
are  able  to  command  a  larger  following  than  any  fel- 
low at  Yale.  You  are  a  leader  in  everything,  and  it  is 
certain  that  you  will  be  able  to  make  your  choice  of  the 
junior  societies  next  year.  It  is  no  more  than  natural 
that  you  should  have  bitter  foes  who  desire  your  down- 
fall." 

"Well,  my  enemies  have  not  succeeded  very  well 
with  their  plots  thus  far.  If  we  get  out  of  this  scrape 
all  right,  I'll  give  my  attention  to  this  new  gang  who 
have  rallied  around  Fred  Flemming,  for  he  is  evi- 
dently the  leader." 

"Yes,  he  is  the  leader,  and  Tom  Thornton  is  his 
first  officer.  If  you  give  your  attention  to  Flemming, 
I  will  look  after  Mr.  Thornton.  Is  that  settled?" 

"It  is  settled." 

"Good!  Now  we'll  see  if  Jackson  has  fixed  mat- 
ters." 

One  of  the  policemen  was  having  a  talk  with  Plug 
Kirby.  Kirby  seemed  rather  sullen  and  obstinate. 

"I  weren't  doin'  netting  to  git  me  head  t'umped  like 
dis,"  he  muttered,  sulkily.  "Me  frien'  Merriwell  was 


1 36  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

bein'  jumped  by  a  gang,  an'  I  went  in  fer  ter  back 
him  up.  You  cops  lets  der  gang  git  off,  an'  den  yer 
pinches  us.  I  don't  care  wot  yer  do  wid  me,  an*  I  don't 
make  no  promises.  Go  on  wid  yer  deal." 

Here  Frank  Merriwell  stepped  in. 

"You  profess  to  be  a  friend  of  mine,  Kirby,"  he  said. 

"Dat's  wot  I  am,  pal,"  nodded  the  tough. 

"Then  show  it.  If  I  am  pulled  up  before  a  magis- 
trate, it  is  pretty  sure  that  I'll  be  expelled  from  col- 
lege, which  will  be  rough  on  me.  If  you  are  my  friend, 
you  will  agree  to  keep  your  mouth  shut  about  this 
affair.  If  you  are  my  enemy,  you  will  refuse." 

"Well,  pal,  if  yer  puts  it  dat  way,  I  can't  refuse 
yer.  I  did  kinder  reckon  you'd  stan'  by  me  when  I  was 
•hauled  up,  an'  I  t'ought  your  influence  might  fix 
t'ings;  but,  if  it's  der  way  you  say,  I'll  take  me  medi- 
cine, an'  never  open  me  trap.  Is  dat  satisfactory?" 

"You  have  not  been  placed  under  arrest  at  all — un- 
derstand that  ?"  demanded  Officer  Murphy. 

"Sure." 

"And  you  know  nothing  about  a  row  in  this  place. 
Catch  on?" 

"Sure." 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  \yj 

"You're  doing  this  for  your  friend  MerriwelL 
See?" 

"Sure." 

"That's  all.  We'll  have  a  drink  all  around  on  Jack- 
son, and  I'll  club  the  head  off  you,  Kirby,  if  you  blow 
anything." 

Frank  took  seltzer,  while  the  others  drank  beer  or 
whiskey,  according  to  their  fancy. 

Ten  minutes  later,  Merriwell,  Diamond  and  Kirby 
were  let  out  of  Jackson's  by  the  back  door. 

When  they  were  at  some  distance  from  the  saloon, 
Frank  turned  to  the  bruiser  and  said : 

"Diamond  tells  me  that  you  got  into  this  trouble  by 
attempting  to  defend  me,  Kirby.  I  am  sure  I  appre- 
ciate it,  but  I  had  rather  you  would  drop  calling  me 
your  friend.  You  can  do  me  more  harm  that  way  than 
any  other." 

"All  right,"  nodded  Plug,  gloomily.  "Dat  goes. 
I  know  I  ain't  in  your  class,  an'  I  don't  want  ter  do  yer 
no  hurt.  All  der  same,  if  I  git  a  chance  ter  fight  fer 
yer  any  time,  I'll  do  dat." 

Frank  appreciated  the  kindness  of  the  big  bruiser. 


138  A  Fight  Against  Odds. 

whose  admiration  he  had  won  by  giving  him  a  severe 
thrashing. 

"All  right,  Kirby,"  he  laughed  "I  certainly  can't 
object  if  you  want  to  fight  for  me.  There  have  been 
times  when  I  could  have  found  you  quite  useful  in 
pitting  you  against  ruffians  who  had  tried  to  injure  me. 
Are  you  down  on  your  luck  nowadays?" 

"Well,  rudder!" 

"Well,  here's  a  V.    Go  play  you  are  a  millionaire." 

Kirby  eagerly  grasped  the  five-dollar  ball  which 
Frank  passed  him,  earnestly  exclaiming: 

"If  youse  ain't  der  whites'  young  cove  what  I  ever 
seen,  I'm  a  liar !  If  yer  wants  me  ter  do  up  der  whole 
gang  as  was  ag'inst  yer  ter-night,  jest  you  say  so! 
I'd  like  der  job." 

"If  I  need  you,  I'll  let  you  know,"  assured  Frank. 
"Good-night." 

Plug  doffed  his  battered  hat. 

"Good-night,  young  gent.  May  ye  alwus  prosper, 
an'  may  Old  Nick  take  yer  enemies." 

As  Frank  and  Jack  walked  toward  their  rooms  in 
South  Middle,  the  Virginian  observed : 

"You  are  the  strangest  fellow  I  ever  saw,  Merriwell. 


A  Fight  Against  Odds.  139 

When  you  do  make  a  friend  he  is  ready  to  go  through 
fire  for  you,  and  you  make  friends  of  all  sorts  and 
conditions  of  persons.  Your  friends  are  as  firm  and 
unwavering  as  your  enemies  are  virulent  and  dan- 
;erous." 

"And  still  I  seldom  seek  the  friendship  of  any  one," 
declared  Merriwell.  "If  they  wish  to  be  my  friends,  I 
accept  them  for  what  they  show  themselves  to  be.  If 
they  choose  to  be  my  enemies,  well  and  good ;  let  them 
look  out  for  themselves.  To-night  I  have  found  that 
a  new  combine  of  enemies  has  risen  against  me.  I 
know  them  all,  and  I  shall  treat  them  as  they  deserve." 


CHAPTER  XL 

A    MATTER    OF    SPECULATION. 

Frank  spent  an  hour  every  afternoon  in  the  gym- 
nasium, where  he  took  such  exercise  as  he  considered 
best,  always  spending  at  least  a  few  minutes  of  the 
time  on  one  of  the  rowing  machines. 

A  great  deal  of  speculation  had  been  aroused  by 
Bob  Collingwood's  determination  to  take  Merriwell 
upon  the  'varsity  crew. 

It  was  known  that  Collingwood  was  a  thorough  be- 
liever in  the  American  oar  and  American  stroke  as 
opposed  to  the  shorter-bladed  Oxford  oar  and  the 
longer  English  stroke. 

Collingwood  had  ever  seemed  thoroughly  satisfied 
with  Yale  methods,  and  he  had  expressed  his  scorn  of 
the  Oxford  method  of  placing  the  seats  on  alternate 
sides  of  the  boat. 

It  was  generally  presumed  that  Frank  Merriwell 
was  thoroughly  English  in  his  ideas  and  beliefs,  and 
it  was  thought  that  he  was  altogether  too  set  to  give 


A  Matter  of  Speculation.  141 

up  what  he  fancied  was  right,  even  though  he  might 
get  on  the  crew  by  so  doing. 

Still  some  one  had  been  forced  to  give  in,  and  there 
was  much  speculation  about  it.  Then  came  the  rumor 
that  Yale  was  to  have  an  English  coach,  and  the 
tongues  of  the  gossips  began  to  wag  furiously. 

"It's  a  great  triumph  for  Frank  Merriwell!''  cried 
Danny  Griswold  to  a  party  of  friends  gathered  in  the 
gym- 
Danny  was  flushed  and  perspiring  from  recent  vio- 
lent exertions  on  the  bars.  Some  of  the  group  about 
him  were  in  training  suits,  and  some  were  in  street 
dress. 

"Also  a  triumph  for  good  old  'Umpty-eight,"  de- 
clared Ben  Halliday,  with  satisfaction. 

"How  is  that?"  asked  Bandy  Robinson. 

"Why,"  answered  Halliday,  "it  was  the  freshman 
crew  of  'Umpty-eight  that,  under  Merriwell's  instruc- 
tions, adopted  the  Oxford  oar  and  stroke  and  defeated 
'Umpty-seven  at  Saltonstall.  Do  you  see?" 

"Vanity,  vanity,"  quoth  Dismal  Jones,  with  the  air 
of  a  Methodist  preacher  of  old  times.  "They  who  ex- 


142  A  Matter  of  Speculation. 

alt  themselves  in  high  places  shall  be  cast  down.  Be- 
ware of  false  pride  and  the  swelled  head." 

"Oh,  you  are  always  croaking!"  exclaimed  Lewis 
Little. 

"I  think  it  is  a  mistake  to  run  off  onto  English  meth- 
ods," said  Burn  Putnam.  "Harvard  has  done  that, 
and  they'll  say  we  are  following  Harvard's  example." 

"What  if  they  do  say  so  ?"  yawned  Bruce  Browning, 
lazily.  "What  do  we  care,  so  long  as  we  win  the  race 
at  New  London  ?" 

"But  we  can't  win  this  year,"  declared  Walter  Gor- 
dan,  who  had  been  swinging  the  clubs,  and  was  flushed 
from  the  exertion.  "It  strikes  me  it  is  a  crazy  scheme 
to  attempt  to  change  the  oars  and  the  stroke  at  this 
late  day.  Harvard  has  been  hammering  away  at  her 
crew  since  last  fall,  and  it  will  be  in  perfect  trim  when 
the  New  London  race  comes  off,  while  Yale's  crew  will 
be  all  broken  up  if  this  change  of  methods  occurs." 

This  seemed  logical,  and  not  a  few  were  ready  to 
agree  with  Gordan.  Harry  Rattleton  came  up,  and  the 
lads  appealed  to  him  at  once. 

"You  are  Merriwell's  roommate,"  said  Robinson, 
"and  you  should  know  if  it  is  true  that  Yale  is  going 


A  Matter  of  Speculation.  143 

to  change  her  oars  and  stroke  for  the  Oxford  oar  and 
stroke." 

Harry  grinned  mysteriously. 

"Why  should  I  know  all  this  just  because  I  am  Mer- 
riwell's  roommate?"  he  asked.  "Do  you  think  he 
knows  everything  he  tells  me — I  mean  do  you  think  he 
tells  me  everything  he  knows  ?" 

"Of  course  not,  but  he'd  be  sure  to  tell  you  this,  for 
you  know  he  introduced  English  methods  with  'Umpty- 
eight  last  year,  and  he  must  be  rather  proud  if  Colling- 
wood  has  given  in  that  those  methods  are  preferable 
to  the  old  Yale  ways." 

"If  Merry  were  proud  of  anything,  you'd  never 
know  it  by  his  words  or  manner,"  said  Harry.  "He 
is  not  given  to  boasting." 

"Oh,  of  course  not !"  cried  Little,  impatiently.  "We 
all  swear  by  Frank  Merriwell,  but  what  we  wish  to 
know  is  if  he  has  induced  Collingwood  to  adopt  the 
Oxford  oar  and  stroke." 

"Well,  you'll  have  to  ask  Merriwell,  for  I  will  tell 
you  frankly  that  I  don't  know.  The  longer  I  room 
with  him  the  less  I  pry  into  his  affairs,  and,  if  he  knows 


144  A  Matter  of  Speculation. 

Collingwood's  plans,  he  has  not  seen  fit  to  reveal  them 
to  me.  That  is  all,  gentlemen." 

That  was  anything  but  satisfactory,  as  the  faces  of 
the  assembled  lads  plainly  indicated. 

"Well,  it  can't  be  long  before  we  find  out!"  cried 
Robinson,  in  disgust.  "If  Yale  has  whiffled  about  at 
this  late  hour  it  will  show  reprehensible  weakness  and 
lack  of  policy.  Harvard  is  bound  to  win.  Then  she 
will  crow.  They  have  won  the  annual  debate  right 
along,  so  that  my  old  fogy  uncle  declares  all  the  brains 
are  in  Harvard.  If  they  win  the  spring  race  he'll  de- 
cide that  brawn  is  going  to  Harvard,  as  well  as  brain, 
and  Yale  is  in  the  decline." 

"They  never  won  anything  fair,"  declared  Halliday. 
"Why,  I've  heard  they  have  men  out  West  all  the  while 
searching  for  new  debaters.  They  claim  that  Harvard 
don't  care  to  go  in  for  athletics,  but  takes  a  leading 
stand  in  all  intellectual  pursuits,  such  as  debating 
and  chess." 

"Chess  is  certainly  a  highly  intellectual  pursuit," 
drawled  Browning.  "If  I  had  entered  Harvard  I 
should  take  an  interest  in  it.  Debating  is  too  trying. 


A  Matter  of  Speculation.  145 

The  exertion  of  standing  on  one's  feet  and  talking  is 
very  severe." 

"If  you  would  take  a  little  more  exertion  you  might 
get  some  of  the  flesh  off  you,"  said  Putnam.  "How 
did  you  happen  to  get  fat  so  suddenly,  Browning,  old 
man?" 

"Oh,  he  fell  off  the  roof  one  day  and  came  down 
plump,"  chuckled  Griswold,  mischievously. 

"Here!  here!  here!"  exclaimed  Rattleton,  making  a 
grab  at  Danny,  who  dodged  and  slipped  out  of  the  way. 
"You  want  to  let  up  on  that,  young  fellow." 

"I  have  tried  to  reduce  my  weight  by  dieting,"  said 
Bruce,  with  apparent  seriousness.  "I've  been  in  the 
habit  of  eating  a  juicy  tenderloin  steak  twice  a  day,  but 
I  gave  that  up  and  tried  cheap  fifteen-cent  steaks  in- 
stead." 

"How  did  you  find  it?"  asked  Little. 

"Oh,  pretty  tough,"  answered  Browning,  with  a  sly 
wink. 

"This  isn't  what  we  were  talking  about,"  broke  in 
Walter  Gordan,  impatiently.  "If  those  Harvard  Wil- 
lies win  from  us  this  spring,  it  will  be  a  frightful  blow 
for  Old  Eli." 


146  A  Matter  of  Speculation. 

"If  they  win  it  will  come  from  Collingwood's  shally- 
ing  about,"  asserted  "Deacon"  Dunning,  who  had  just 
joined  the  group.  "Merriwell's  ideas  may  be  all  right, 
but  it  is  too  late  to  adopt  them  this  season.  I  am 
Merriwell's  friend,  but  I  believe  Fred  Flemming  should 
have  been  retained  on  the  crew.  By  taking  in  Merri- 
well  it  may  upset  everything.  Flemming  is  a  good 
man,  and  Merriwell  already  has  more  than  he  can  prop- 
erly attend  to." 

"Now  you  are  getting  me  cot  under  the  hollar — I 
mean  hot  under  the  collar!"  exclaimed  Rattleton,  his 
eyes  snapping.  "I  want  to  ask  you  a  question,  Mr. 
Dunning.  When  have  you  known  Frank  Merriwell  to 
make  a  failure  of  anything  he  has  attempted  ?" 

"Oh,  he  has  been  wonderfully  successful,  I  grant 
that;  and  I  do  not  doubt  but  he  would  have  made  a 
good  man  had  he  been  taken  on  the  crew  last  fall." 

"He  will  make  a  good  man  anyway,  and  you  can 
bet  on  that!"  cried  Harry.  "It  is  not  necessary  that 
there  shall  be  a  change  of  methods  because  Merry  has 
been  taken  on  the  crew.  Although  he  believes  in  the 
superiority  of  the  Oxford  oar  and  stroke,  he  may 
not  think  it  good  policy  to  attempt  to  make  a  change 


A  Matter  of  Speculation.  147 

now.  But  that  is  not  all.  Merry  makes  a  good  leader, 
but  he  is  also  a  good  follower,  and  it  is  his  theory  that 
utter  obedience  is  due  superiors.  I'll  wager  that  he 
will  not  intrude  his  ideas  on  Collingwood.  If  he  docs 
not  regulate  his  stroke  with  that  of  the  rest  of  the  crew 
he  will  soon  be  dropped,  and  Flemming  or  some  other 
fellow  will  have  his  oar.  All  this  talk  you  are  making 
is  mere  speculation,  and  I  advise  you  to  wait  a  while 
till  you  know  what  you  are  talking  about." 

Having  thus  delivered  himself,  Rattleton  turned 
away. 

At  this  moment  Frank  entered  the  gymnasium  to 
take  his  regular  exercise.  He  was  accompanied  by 
Jack  Diamond,  who  had  been  seen  with  Merriwell  very 
often  of  late. 

Immediately  the  group  of  sophomores  decided  that 
one  of  their  number  should  ask  Merriwell  point-blank 
if  a  change  to  the  English  methods  was  contemplated. 
The  choice  fell  on  Bandy  Robinson,  who  did  not  relish 
his  job  much. 

Robinson  approached  Frank  with  no  little  hesita- 
tion, and  something  about  his  manner  seemed  to  be- 
tray his  object,  for  Merriwell  read  his  thoughts. 


148  A  Matter  of  Speculation. 

"Go  back,"  directed  Frank,  grimly — "go  back  and 
tell  them  that  they  will  find  out  all  they  want  to  know 
by  waiting." 

Then  he  entered  one  of  the  dressing-rooms,  and 
Robinson  retreated,  muttering: 

"It's  no  use — Merriwell,  seems  to  know  just  what  a 
person  is  thinking  about.  He  is  one  of  the  jolliest 
fellows  in  the  world,  and,  at  the  same  time,  when  he 
takes  a  fancy,  one  of  the  most  unapproachable." 


CHAPTER  XII. 

THE    CHALLENGE. 

Merriwell  and  Diamond  entered  a  dressing-room  to- 
gether. The  moment  the  door  closed  behind  them, 
Frank  laughed  shortly. 

"I'll  wager  that  I  hit  the  nail  on  the  head  that  time," 
he  said.  "The  moment  I  saw  that  knot  of  fellows  talk- 
ing so  excitedly  I  decided  they  were  speculating  con- 
cerning the  change  on  the  crew,  and  my  eyes  told  me 
they  had  deputized  Robinson  to  question  me,  so  I  did 
not  give  him  the  chance." 

"The  dropping  of  Flemming  and  your  acceptance  in 
his  place  has  created  a  stir,"  said  Jack.  "It  is  gen- 
erally thought  that  you  will  ruin  everything  with  your 
English  ideas." 

"That  shows  how  little  they  know  me,"  smiled  Mer- 
riwell, as  he  threw  off  his  coat.  "I  almost  fancy  it  is 
generally  believed  that  I  go  in  for  English  methods 
simply  because  they  are  English." 


150  The  Challenge. 

"You  fancy  rightly,  Merry.  The  majority  of  the 
fellows  believe  that." 

A  cloud  came  to  Frank's  face. 

"I  do  not  care  to  be  misunderstood  to  such  an  ex- 
tent," he  said.  "I  am  no  Anglomaniac ;  I  am  American 
to  the  bone.  I  have  traveled  some,  and  I  prefer  this 
country  above  all  other  countries  on  the  face  of  the 
earth.  I  was  at  Oxford  long  enough  to  witness  the 
races  and  make  an  investigation  of  their  methods.  I 
believe  that  in  the  matter  of  rowing  the  English  are 
more  advanced  than  the  Americans.  This  is  not 
strange,  for  they  have  been  at  it  longer.  Now,  al- 
though I  claim  to  be  thoroughly  American,  I  try  not 
to  be  narrow  and  pig-headed.  Simply  because  a  thing 
is  American,  I  do  not  believe  it  must  therefore  be  su- 
perior to  everything  else  in  the  world ;  but  I  am  bound 
to  defend  it  till  I  find  something  by  which  it  is  ex- 
celled. If  Americans  will  adopt  the  English  oar  and 
the  English  stroke,  I  am  confident  that,  in  a  very  few 
years,  they  will  so  improve  upon  them  that  they  will 
be  able  to  give  points  to  our  cousins  across  the  'pond.' ' 

"You  are,  indeed,  broad-minded  and  liberal,  Merri- 
well,"  said  Diamond,  with  admiration.  "It  was  you 


The  Challenge.  151 

who  first  convinced  me  that  Northerners  no  longer 

* 

hold  a  feeling  of  enmity  against  Southerners.  Till  I 
met  you  the  word  'Yankee'  seemed  to  me  to  be  a 
•  stigma — a  name  to  be  applied  in  derision  to  the  people 
of  the  North.  To  my  astonishment,  I  found  you  were 
proud  to  be  called  a  Yankee^  and  then  you  explained 
to  me  that  foreigners  applied  the  name  to  all  native- 
born  Americans.  You  explained  to  me  that  in  the  early 
days  of  this  country,  when  Northerner  and  Southerner 
fought  for  one  common  cause,  freedom  and  inde- 
pendence, all  who  opposed  the  tyranny  of  our  oppress- 
ors were  termed  Yankees.  I  remember  the  night  when 
we  sat  up  till  two  in  the  morning  talking  of  these 
things.  You  did  not  tell  me  anything  I  had  not  con- 
sidered before,  but  you  revealed  things  to  me  in  a  new 
light.  You  showed  me  the  North  and  South  bound  by 
ties  of  blood,  and  I  think  you  aroused  in  me  a  broader 
feeling  of  patriotism  than  I  had  ever  before  known." 
The  cloud  passed  from  Merriwell's  face  as  his  com- 
panion spoke,  and,  as  Diamond  finished,  Frank  reached 
out  and  took  his  hand. 

"You  are  from  the  South,  I  from  the  North,"  he 
said,  in  his  most  charming  manner ;  "yet  we  are  broth- 


152  The  Challenge. 

ers.  In  the  North  and  in  the  South  there  are  those  who 
still  entertain  sectional  feelings  and  prejudices,  but  the 
time  will  come  when  all  this  will  pass  away." 

"I  think  it  is  fast  passing,"  declared  Jack. 

"It  is,"  nodded  Frank.  "So  far  as  sectional  feel- 
ings go,  there  should  be  no  North,  no  South,  no  East, 
no  West.  We  are  all  united  under  one  flag,  the  most 
beautiful  of  all  flags — the  Star  Spangled  Banner !  We 
are  all  citizens  of  one  country,  the  greatest  and  grand- 
est the  sun  ever  shone  upon!  We  should  be  ready  at 
any  time  to  lay  down  our  lives  for  our  flag  and  our 
country." 

Diamond's  eyes  flashed,  and  it  seemed  that  the  noble 
look  on  Frank  Merriwell's  face  was  reflected  in  Jack's. 
His  blood  was  stirred  by  the  grandest  of  all  emo- 
tions— 'patriotism.  Looking  at  the  Virginian  at  that 
moment,  no  one  could  for  an  instant  doubt  his  courage 
and  his  loyalty. 

"I  believe  we  should  pay  more  attention  to  the  early 
history  of  our  country,  when  North  and  South  were 
united  against  a  common  foe,"  continued  Frank. 
"That  is  what  will  arouse  true  patriotism.  Massa- 


The  Challenge.  153 

chusetts  had  her  Tea  Party,  but  Virginia  had  her — - 
Washington !" 

Jack  Diamond  bared  his  head. 

"Merriwell,"  he  said,  with  great  earnestness,  "the 
greatest  enemies  of  our  country  are  those  who  try  to 
arouse  sectional  feeling.  I  am  sure  of  that." 

"Quite  right,"  said  Frank.  "In  the  North  and  in 
the  South  there  are  cheap  fellows  and  cads  who  pose 
as  gentlemen.  You  and  I  have  had  a  few  experiences 
with  some  of  them,  and  it  seems  that  there  are  others." 

"I  presume  you  mean  Flemming,  Thornton  and  thei  - 
crowd  ?" 

"Flemming  is  the  leader,  and  his  enmity  against  me 
has  been  aroused  because  I  have  been  taken  on  the 
crew  in  his  place.  I  did  not  seek  the  position,  and  I 
was  surprised  when  Collingwood  called  on  me  to  take 
it." 

"You  were  no  less  surprised  than  others,  for  Colling- 
wood has  always  maintained  that  Yale's  methods  are 
superior  to  those  of  Oxford,  and  he  knows  you  believe 
quite  the  opposite.  It  is  a  matter  of  speculation  if  he 
intends  to  change  to  the  English  methods  at  this  late 
hour." 


154  The  Challenge. 

Frank  smiled. 

"Collingwood  is  not  a  fool.  There  will  be  no  change. 
Already  I  am  in  training  to  perfectly  acquire  the  Yale 
stroke." 

This  was  both  a  surprise  and  a  relief  to  Jack,  who 
had  feared  that  Collingwood  had  decided  on  the 
change,  and  that  in  case  Harvard  won  Merriwell  would 
be  blamed  to  a  certain  extent. 

"I  am  glad,  Merry!"  exclaimed  Diamond,  his  eyes 
gleaming.  "If  Yale  wins  and  we  square  matters  with 
Flemming  and  Thornton,  I  shall  be  perfectly  satisfied." 

"I  am  hoping  to  get  at  Mr.  Flemming  this  after- 
noon," said  Frank,  grimly. 

"How  is  that?" 

"He  spends  some  time  in  the  gym.  every  day,  and 
I  timed  my  visit  to-day  in  order  to  catch  him  here." 

"But  what  can  you  do  here?"  asked  the  Virginian, 
wonderingly.  "You  can't  fight  him  in  the  gym." 

"I  do  not  want  to  fight  him." 

"No?"  cried  Jack,  in  astonishment.  "Then  what 
do  you  mean  to  do?" 

"Flemming  considers  himself  the  champion  wrestler 
at  Yale.  I  hope  to  wrestle  with  him." 


The  Challenge.  155 

"Hope  to  wrestle?"  exclaimed  Diamond,  still  more 
astonished.  "Why,  even  if  you  were  to  throw  him,  it 
could  give  you  very  little  satisfaction." 

Frank  smiled  mysteriously. 

"Do  you  think  so?"  he  inquired.  "Well,  we  shall 
see.  When  you  are  ready,  we  shall  go  out.  I  will 
wrestle  with  you,  and  you  shall  throw  me.  We'll  be 
near  Flemming  at  the  time.  That  will  give  him  an 
opportunity  to  pass  some  remarks,  if  he  so  desires.  If 
he  does  so,  you  may  be  sure  I  will  lose  no  time  in 
picking  them  up.  I  am  tired  of  fighting,  and  I  hope  to 
finish  this  chap  in  another  way." 

"If  you  finish  him  by  wrestling  with  him,  I  shall 
consider  it  a  marvel.  I  am  afraid  you  have  misjudged 
your  man,  Merry;  he'll  not  be  finished  so  easily." 

"We  shall  see.    Are  you  ready?    Then  come  on." 

They  left  the  dressing-room,  Frank  in  advance.  As 
they  came  out  they  were  regarded  with  some  interest 
by  the  knot  of  sophomores,  who  were  still  talking  of 
the  surprising  change  that  had  been  made  on  the  crew. 

As  he  passed  the  lads,  Frank  called  pleasantly  to 
them,  and  they  greeted  him  in  return,  and  the  manner 
in  which  this  was  done  would  have  betrayed  to  a  keen- 


156  The  Challenge. 

eyed  stranger  that  Merriwell  was  something  more  than 
an  ordinary  man  at  college. 

Frank's  keen  eyes  detected  Flemming  at  the  lad- 
ders. 

"That  is  first  rate,"  he  muttered.  "The  turf  is 
nearby." 

A  few  moments  later  Frank  was  engaged  in  casting 
the  shot  near  where  Fred  Flemming  was  exercising 
on  the  ladders. 

At  about  the  time  Frank  fancied  Flemming  would 
finish,  Frank  gave  Jack  the  signal,  and  they  were  soon 
struggling  in  what  seemed  to  be  a  good-natured  wres- 
tling match. 

Diamond  was  really  supple  and  catlike  on  his  feet, 
and  he  possessed  more  than  common  strength ;  but  he 
was  not  Frank  Merriwell's  match,  for,  besides  being 
a  natural  athlete,  Frank  had  developed  himself  in 
every  way,  so  that  he  was  really  a  wonder  for  a  youth 
of  his  years. 

The  struggle  between  Frank  and  Jack  quickly 
attracted  a  number  of  spectators  to  the  spot,  and  Mer- 
riwell was  well  pleased  to  see  Flemming  come  down 


The  Challenge.  157 

from  the  ladders  and  approach,  accompanied  by  Tom 
Thornton. 

It  seemed  that  the  battle  between  the  wrestling  lads 
became  fiercer  and  fiercer,  but  at  last  Jack  secured  a 
sudden  advantage,  and  Merriwell  went  down  heavily. 

"Bah  !">  Fred  Flemming  was  heard  to  say.  "Those 
fellows  remind  me  of  two  awkward  cubs.  Neither 
knows  the  rudiments  of  "scientific  wrestling/' 

One  leap  brought  Frank  Merriwell  to  his  feet,  an- 
other leap  carried  him  before  Flemming,  who  was  turn- 
ing away. 

"Wait  a  moment,  sir,"  said  Frank,  his  voice  cold, 
clear  and  distinct.  "I  believe  you  consider  yourself 
something  of  a  wrestler,  Flemming?" 

Merriwell  had  appeared  before  him  so  suddenly  that 
Fred  started  back  involuntarily.  Then,  angry  with 
himself  at  the  recoil,  his  lips  curled  scornfully,  and 
he  surveyed  the  other  lad  in  the  most  haughty  and 
insolent  manner. 

"Get  out  of  my  way!"  he  cried,  harshly.  "I  will 
not  be  bothered  by  you !" 

The  same  old  smile — the  smile  that  was  so  danger- 
ous— crept  over  Merriwell's  face. 


158  The  Challenge. 

"You  think  you  will  not  be  bothered  by  me,*'  he 
said,  his  voice  smooth  and  soft,  "but  you  deceive  your- 
self. You  have  taken  a  fancy  to  bother  me,  to  revile 
me  behind  my  back,  even  to  make  false  statements 
concerning  me,  for  you  have  said  that  I  sought  your 
position  on  the  crew  and  obtained  it  by  underhand 
means.  In  the  presence  of  these  witnesses  you  have 
stated  that  I  am  a  most  bungling  wrestler.  That  is 
something  you  cannot  deny." 

"I  do  not  wish  to  deny  it.  You  are  not  a  wrestler 
— you  know  nothing  of  the  art." 

"And  you  claim  to  be  a  wrestler?" 

"Yes,  I  can  wrestle." 

"Then,  here  and  now,  I  challenge  you  to  wrestle 
me  at  side-holds,  catch-as-you-can  and  arm's  end,  the 
winner  of  two  out  of  three  falls  to  be  acknowledged 
the  best  man,  and  Hugh  Heffiner  to  be  the  judge.  If 
you  refuse  to  wrestle,  I  will  brand  you  as  a  blower 
and  a  braggart — a  fellow  not  fit  to  be  accepted  in  the 
society  of  gentlemen.  Your  answer,  Fletnming — your 
answer !" 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE    WRESTLING    MATCH. 

Flemming  turned  pale  and  trembled  with  suppressed 
passion,  while  his  hands  were  clinched,  and  he  glared 
at  Merriwell  as  if  he  longed  to  strike  the  lad  who  had 
dared  face  him  and  fling  such  an  insulting  challenge  in 
his  teeth. 

He  tried  to  speak,  but  the  words  were  choked  back 
in  his  throat.  He  felt  that  Merriwell  was  seeking 
retaliation,  and,  for  that  reason,  had  purposely  worded 
his  challenge  in  a  manner  calculated  to  cut  him  deeply. 

"Shame!"  came  from  the  lips  of  Tom  Thornton. 

Still  the  lad  who  had  given  the  challenge  smiled. 

"I  am  meeting  Mr.  Flemming  as  he  would  meet  me," 
said  Frank,  calmly.  "I  am  using  the  sort  of  language 
he  would  not  hesitate  to  apply  to  me.  Of  course  I 
feel  that  I  am  lowering  myself  in  doing  so,  but  it  is 
absolutely  necessary  in  some  cases  to  place  one's  self 
on  the  level  of  an  unscrupulous  enemy  in  order  to  meet 
and  defeat  him." 


160  The  Wrestling  Match. 

All  this  was  said  with  coolness  and  distinctness,  and 
it  was  as  if  Frank  were  deliberately  sinking  the  knife 
deeper  in  Flemming's  writhing  body. 

It  seemed  to  be  more  than  Flemming  could  endure, 
for  he  lost  control  of  himself,  and  would  have  leaped 
toward  Frank. 

"You  insolent  hound!"  he  cried,  through  his  set 
teeth. 

Merriwell  stood  with  his  hands  at  his  side,  making 
no  move,  but  he  saw  that  Flemming's  friends  had 
grasped  him  and  were  holding  him  in  check. 

"Steady,  Flem,  my  boy !"  fluttered  Thornton.  "Re- 
member where  you  are!" 

"I  will  strangle  him." 

"Wait !     You  can't  do  it  here  I" 

"Let  me  go!" 

"Thornton  is  right,"  declared  Andy  Emery,  who 
had  placed  himself  between  the  two  foes.  "You  can- 
not fight  him  here,  old  man." 

"Then  fix  it  so  I  can  fight  him  somewhere — any- 
where! I  could  murder  him!" 

"You  will  have  to  wrestle  him." 


The  Wrestling  Match.  161 

"Yes/*  said  Thornton,  "you  will  have  to  do  that, 
Fred,  or  his  friends  will  believe  you  are  afraid." 

"Then  I  will  wrestle  him — and  I  will  break  his 
back!" 

"You  must  calm  down  before  you  attempt  it,  and 
you  must  promise  to  wrestle  fairly  according  to  rules." 

"That  will  give  me  no  chance  to  get  square  for  this 
insult." 

"You  can  show  your  superiority  by  throwing  him, 
which  you  will  do,  as  you  are  an  expert  wrestler,  and, 
for  all  of  the  other  things  he  does  so  wefl,  no  one  ever 
heard  that  Merriwell  could  wrestle.  Then,  the  next 
time  you  meet  him  outside  college  bounds,  you  can 
force  him  to  apologize." 

Emery  nodded. 

"Thornton  is  right,  Flemming,"  he  said. 

Then,  with  a  mighty  effort,  Fred  seemed  to  gair 
control  of  his  anger,  and  he  calmly  said : 

"All  right,  I  will  wrestle  him,  but  I  shall  not  tx 
gentle  with  him,  although  I  promise  not  to  foul  him." 

"Be  as  rough  as  you  choose,  as  long  as  you  keep 
within  bounds." 


1 62  The  Wrestling  Match. 

Then  it  was  that  Frank  Merriwell  was  heard  saying 
to  the  friends  who  had  gathered  around  him: 

"It  may  seem  that  I  have  opened  myself  to  criticism 
.jy  my  manner  in  challenging  this  person,  but  I  call  you 
all  to  witness  that  he  was  the  first  to  be  insulting  by 
his  manner  of  criticising  the  friendly  bout  between  Mr. 
Diamond  and  myself.  That,  however,  was  not  the 
beginning.  Had  not  Flemming  given  me  other  cause, 
I  should  not  have  challenged  him  in  such  a  manner.  I 
have  sought  neither  his  friendship  nor  his  enmity,  but 
he  has  seen  fit  to  regard  me  as  an  enemy.  I  can  honor 
an  honest  foe  who  meets  me  man  to  man,  but  not  one 
who  takes  a  mean  advantage  of  me.  On  my  head  I 
now  bear  a  bruise  where  I  was  felled  by  a  heavy  cane  in 
the  hands  of  one  of  Flemming's  friends,  when  he  with 
five  companions  set  upon  Diamond  and  myself.  I  al- 
ways endeavor  to  square  all  my  accounts  with  friends 
and  foes,  and  I  shall  balance  the  books  with  Flem- 
ming." 

Fred  forced  a  scornful  laugh. 

"A  very  fine  speech !"  he  cried.  "I  assure  you,  Mer- 
riwell, you  shall  have  the  opportunity  to  square  mat- 
ters. I  could  wish  something  somewhat  more  busi- 


The  Wrestling  Match.  153 

nesslike  than  a  mere  wrestling  match,  but  that  may 
come  later — if  you  have  as  much  nerve  as  you  wish 
persons  to  think  you  possess.  To  begin  with,  I'll  shov: 
you  that  I  spoke  the  truth  when  I  said  you  know  noth- 
ing of  the  art  of  wrestling.  I  am  satisfied  to  have 
Hugh  Heffiner  for  judge  and  referee." 

Merriwell  had  chosen  Heffinef  because  he  knew 
Hugh  was  a  square  man,  and  they  were  not  at  all 
chummy,  so  he  could  not  be  accused  of  having  selected 
a  person  who  would  favor  him.  Heffiner  was  in  the 
gymnasium,  and  had  been  attracted  by  the  struggle 
between  Merriwell  and  Diamond,  so  he  had  overheard 
all  that  passed  between  Frank  and  Fred. 

Diamond  was  standing  at  one  side,  his  arms  folded, 
a  look  of  satisfaction  on  his  face.  For  all  of  Flem- 
ming's  reputation  as  a  wrestler,  Diamond  felt  sure  that 
Merriwell  was  making  no  false  moves.  He  knew 
Frank  too  well  to  think  he  would  deliberately  chal- 
lenge his  enemy  to  wrestle  without  feeling  certain  of 
his  own  ability  to  accomplish  his  defeat. 

Flemming  was  eager  for  the  struggle,  while  Merri- 
well was  calm  and  deliberate  in  his  movements.  Flem- 


1 64  The  Wrestling  Match. 

ming's  friends  gathered  about  him,  giving  him  ad- 
vice. 

Then  Frank  was  not  a  little  astonished  to  find  Tad 
Horner  at  his  side,  and  heard  the  little  junior  say: 

"Look  here,  Merriwell,  I  want  you  to  understand 
that  I  am  not  your  enemy,  although  appearances  may 
be  against  me." 

"You  were  one  of  the  Flemming  gang  at  Jackson's." 

"I  acknowledge  itt  but  with  shame,"  said  Tad,  and, 
to  Frank's  surprise,  the  little  fellow  colored  deeply. 
"At  the  same  time,  you  will  remember  that  I  did  not 
lift  a  hand  against  you.  You  are  a  white  man,  Merri- 
well, and  I  think  you  all  right." 

Frank  was  impressed  by  Tad's  sincerity. 

"Thank  you,"  he  said.  "It  is  not  necessary  for 
every  fellow  who  dislikes  me  to  be  a  rascal.  I  am  sure 
that  all  of  Flemming's  friends  are  not  rascals.  It  is 
quite  probable  that  a  great  many  honest  fellows  think 
me  in  the  wrong,  but  I  am  glad  to  know  that  you, 
who  were  present  at  Jackson's,  do  not  think  so." 

Tad  retired,  quite  satisfied  with  this.  He  had  long 
admired  Merriwell,  and  he  felt  it  his  duty  to  come  out 
on  this  occasion  and  express  himself  openly.  He  did 


The  Wrestling  Match.  165 

not  mind  that  Flemming  and  his  friends  regarded  him 
with  anger  and  scorn. 

Arrangements  for  the  wrestling  match  were  soon 
made,  and  then  the  two  lads  faced  each  other  on  the 
turf.  Flemming  was  tall  and  solid,  with  broad  shoul- 
ders and  a  back  of  which  he  was  particularly  proud. 
He  was  heavier  than  Merriwell. 

There  was  not  a  single  ounce  of  superfluous  flesh  on 
Frank  Merriwell.  He  was  a  mass  of  bone  and  sinew, 
splendidly  formed  and  supple  as  a  young  panther.  In 
every  movement  and  pose  there  was  indescribable 
grace,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  suggestion  of  wonder- 
ful strength  and  self-reliance. 

Flemming  was  bold  and  confident.  He  had  made 
a  special  study  of  wrestling,  and  he  knew  all  the  tricks 
employed  by  experts.  He  had  seen  Merriwell  and  Dia- 
mond wrestling,  and  he  felt  certain  that  his  adversary 
and  rival  would  be  an  "easy  thing." 

It  chanced  that  the  under  holds  in  the  first  match 
fell  to  Flemming,  which  made  him  certain  in  his  own. 
mind  that  he  would  have  no  trouble  in  throwing  the 
lad  he  hated. 

The  signal  was  given,  and  the  enemies  advanced 


1 66  The  Wrestling  Match. 

and  secured  holds.  Then  Heffiner  gave  the  command, 
and  the  struggle  began. 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  Flemming  tried  the  cross- 
buttock,  but  it  seemed  that  Merriwell  had  been  expect- 
ing just  such  a  move,  for  he  passed  his  left  leg  behind 
Fred's  right  and  through  in  front  of  Fred's  left.  Then 
the  force  of  Flemming's  surge  seemed  to  lift  both  lads 
off  their  feet. 

"Down  Merriwell  goes!"  cried  Thornton,  trium- 
phantly. 

But  it  seemed  that  in  the  act  of  falling  Frank  whirled 
in  the  air  and  brought  his  rival  under.  This,  how- 
ever, had  been  planned  from  the  very  instant  that  Fred 
made  the  first  move  to  accomplish  the  cross-buttock, 
and  Frank's  lock-trip  had  brought  it  about  by  lifting 
the  other  lad  from  the  ground  by  a  whirling  movement. 

Flemming  struck  fairly  on  his  shoulders,  with  Mer- 
riwell across  his  body,  and  Heffiner  cried : 

"First  fall  for  Merriwell!" 

Exclamations  of  astonishment  broke  from  the  spec- 
tators. Instead  of  a  struggle  of  some  moments,  this 
fall  had  seemed  to  come  about  in  the  twinkling  of  an 
eye. 


The  Wrestling  Match.  167 

But  what  was  most  astonishing  was  that  Flemming 
was  flat  on  his  back  at  the  bottom  when  the  lads  struck 
the  ground,  although  it  had  appeared  that  he  had  suc- 
cessfully accomplished  the  cross-buttock. 

It  is  certain  that  very  few  of  those  who  witnessed 
the  affair  had  the  least  idea  how  Merriwell  had  accom- 
plished this,  but  they  saw  that  he  was  the  victor  in  the 
first  contest. 

Jack  Diamond  seldom  smiled,  but  now  he  did  so, 
and  the  expression  of  satisfaction  on  his  face  was  com- 
plete. 

"Who  said  Merriwell  was  going  down?"  squealed 
Danny  Griswold,  in  delight.  "Somebody  fooled  him- 
self that  time!" 

Thornton  bit  his  lip,  muttering  some  fierce  exclama- 
tion beneath  his  breath. 

Of  them  all  no  person  was  more  astonished  than 
Fred  Flemming.  He  lay  dazed  and  wondering, 
scarcely  able  to  realize  that  he  was  flat  on  his  back 
and  his  enemy  across  his  chest. 

Frank  arose  hastily,  his  face  quite  calm  and  expres- 
sionless. He  did  not  betray  satisfaction  or  triumph, 
but  his  manner  indicated  that  what  had  happened  -was 


168  The  Wrestling  Match. 

no  more  than  he  had  fully  expected.  He  had  confi- 
dence in  himself,  which  any  one  must  have  to  be  suc- 
cessful, but  still  he  was  not  overconfident,  which  is  a 
fault  quite  as  much  as  timidity. 

Flemming  sat  up.  He  had  felt  himself  lifted  from 
his  feet  with  a  twisting  movement,  and  he  had  felt 
himself  whirled  in  the  air,  but  still  he  could  not  under- 
stand how  the  feat  had  been  accomplished. 

Shame  caused  the  hot  blood  to  rush  into  his  face, 
and  he  ground  his  teeth  together,  his  whole  body  quiv- 
ering. 

"It  was  an  accident — it  must  have  been  an  accident !" 
he  told  himself.  "I  tried  to  throw  him  so  heavily  that 
I  overreached  myself." 

The  look  on  Merriwell's  face  cut  him  like  a  keen 
knife  and  made  him  feel  a  fierce  longing  for  the  next 
tussle. 

"They  actually  think  he  threw  me,  when  I  threw  my- 
self," was  his  thought;  "but  I  will  undeceive  them  in 
a  moment.  Next  time  I  will  drive  him  into  the  earth 
beneath  me!  There'll  be  no  further  miscalculation." 

Thornton  was  at  the  side  of  his  friend. 

"How  in  the  world  did  you  happen  to  let  him  take 


The  Wrestling  Match.  169 

a  fall  out  of  you  in  that  manner?"  whispered  Tom,  in 
extreme  disgust. 

Flemming's  lips  curled. 

"Bah!"  he  returned.     "He  did  not  do  it!" 

"No?     But  you  were  thrown!     Explain  that." 

"I  was  not  thrown." 

"Yes,  you  were,  my  dear  fellow!  Heffiner  has 
given  Merriwell  credit  for  winning  the  first  fall." 

"I  made  a  mis  judgment  in  the  amount  of  strength 
I  should  use  on  the  fellow,  and  I  turned  myself  in  the 
air,"  declared  Fred. 

"Is  it  possible?" 

"Of  course  it  is!"  hissed  Flemming,  who  saw  the 
incredulity  in  the  face  of  his  friend.  "He  is  even 
easier  fruit  than  I  imagined." 

Thornton  brightened  up  somewhat,  although  not 
fully  satisfied. 

"You  must  not  let  him  accomplish  it  this  time." 

"I  tell  you  he  did  not  accomplish  it  before!"  came 
bitterly  from  the  crestfallen  and  furious  youth.  "I 
will  convince  you  of  that  in  a  moment.  See  the  fellow 
stand  there  with  that  lordly  air  as  if  he  had  actually 
accomplished  something.  I  will  take  all  of  that  out 


170  The  Wrestling  Match 

of  him !  This  is  catch  as  we  can,  and  I  will  break  his 
back!" 

"Injure  his  back  in  some  way,  and  he  will  not  be 
able  to  hold  the  place  that  belongs  to  you  on  the  crew." 

"That  is  right!"  panted  Flemming,  his  eyes  glitter- 
ing and  his  teeth  showing.  "A  fellow  with  a  sprained 
back  is  no  good  at  an  oar.  Why,  Thornton,  my  boy! 
Merriwell  has  played  right'  into  my  hands!  He  has 
given  me  the  very  opportunity  I  most  desire,  and  I'll 
be  a  chump  if  I  neglect  it!  If  he  is  not  taken  to  his 
room  on  a  stretcher,  it  will  be  necessary  for  some  of 
his  friends  to  aid  him.  I  know  a  hug  that  will  take 
the  stiffness  out  of  his  spine  and  make  him  lame  for  a 
month !" 

"Give  it  to  him !"  fluttered  Tom,  with  returning  con- 
fidence. "Fix  the  cad  this  time  so  he  will  not  be  able 
to  wrestle  any  more !" 

"I  will,  rest  assured  of  that.  This  is  my  opportun- 
ity. In  five  minutes  the  starch  will  be  taken  out  of 
him." 

Flemming  was  confident,  far  more  confident  than 
he  would  have  been  had  he  dreamed  that  Merriwell 


The  Wrestling  Match.  171 

had  turned  him  in  the  air  and  brought  him  underneath 
in  the  first  fall. 

In  his  mind  he  saw  Merriwell  groaning  on  the 
ground,  saw  him  assisted  to  his  room,  saw  him  help- 
less in  bed  and  attended  by  a  physician. 

But  what  gave  Flemming  the  greatest  satisfaction 
was  the  vision  of  Collingwood  humbly  asking  him  to 
again  resume  his  place  on  the  crew — the  place  now 
given  to  Frank  Merriwell. 

It  seemed  remarkable  to  Fred  that  he  had  not  planned 
to  engage  the  lad  he  hated  in  a  wrestling  match,  and 
so  injure  him  in  such  a  manner  that  he  would  be  un- 
able to  row  on  the  crew. 

But  no  less  remarkable,  it  seemed,  was  the  fact  that 
he  had  been  challenged  to  wrestle  by  Merriwell,  and 
thus  given  the  opportunity  he  most  ardently  desired. 

The  only  thing  that  marred  his  satisfaction  at  that 
moment  was  that  Merriwell  had,  apparently  by  acci- 
dent, seemed  to  have  acquired  the  honor  of  having 
thrown  him  in  the  first  struggle. 

"Gentlemen,"  said  Heffmer,  "are  you  ready?" 

The  antagonists  stepped  forward  and  signified  their 
readiness.  The  spectators  fell  back. 


172  The  Wrestling  Match. 

"This  time  it  is  catch  as  you  can,"  said  Yale's  fa- 
mous pitcher.  "Any  kind  of  a  hold  is  fair.  Is  that 
understood  ?" 

"It  is,"  nodded  Merriwell. 

"Certainly,"  bowed  Flemming,  giving  Frank  a 
scornful  look. 

"Very  well,  gentlemen.  Prepare  to  clinch.  Ready 
-go!" 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

PLOTTING     FUN. 

Like  a  panther  Merriwell  sprang  forward,  but  he 
halted  quite  as  suddenly  and  stood  erect,  careless  and 
disdainful. 

Flemming  came  forward  in  a  crouching  posture. 
He  believed  he  saw  his  opportunity,  and,  with  a  gasp 
of  satisfaction,  he  darted  in  and  caught  the  lad  he  hated 
about  the  body. 

This  time  it  was  not  Flemming's  intention  to  throw 
Merriwell  too  suddenly.  He  wanted  a  little  time  to 
wrench  Frank's  back,  and  then  he  would  cast  his  foe 
writhing  and  helpless  at  his  feet. 

Tom  Thornton  saw  that  Fred  had  obtained  the  hold 
he  sought,  and  he  mentally  exclaimed : 

"This  time  there  will  be  no  blunder!" 

Jack  Diamond  no  longer  smiled.  He  saw  that 
Flemming  had  obtained  what  seemed  to  be  a  great  ad- 
vantage, and  his  face  was  rilled  with  concern. 

"It  was  careless  of  Merriwell  to  give  the  fellow  such 


174  Plotting  Fun. 

a  hold!"  thought  Jack.  "Flemming  is  sure  to  be  the 
victor  this  time!" 

There  was  a  look  of  intense  satisfaction  on  Fred 
Flemming's  face  as  he  made  firm  his  clasp  about  Mer- 
riwell's  back. 

And  then,  just  as  Flemming  was  ready  to  give  a 
bear-like  hug,  something  happened. 

Frank's  right  arm  was  bent  so  that  his  forearm  came 
directly  under  Fred's  chin,  while  his  left  arm  was 
clasped  across  Fred's  shoulders  behind  his  back. 

Merriwell  gave  a  sudden  surge,  drawing  Flemming 
close  with  his  left  arm,  and  thrusting  back  the  fellow's 
head  by  pressing  his  right  arm  under  his  enemy's  chin. 

In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  Flemming's  wind  was 
shut  off,  and  his  neck  seemed  to  crack  beneath  the 
strain.  He  made  a  mad  effort  to  hurl  Merriwell  to 
the  ground,  but  he  had  delayed  the  attempt  a  moment 
too  long. 

Frank  Merriwell  well  knew  how  dangerous  was  the 
trick  he  had  played  upon  his  enemy.  He  knew  that  he 
could  break  Flemming's  neck  in  that  manner  if  he  de- 
sired to  do  so,  and  he  was  careful  not  to  make  the  sud- 
den pressure  too  intense. 


Plotting  Fun.  175 

Flemming  could  not  breathe,  and  his  eyes  started 
from  his  head.  His  strength  seemed  to  leave  his 
body,  and  his  struggles  to  throw  the  lad  he  hated  were 
weak  and  ineffectual.  He  was  like  a  child  in  the  hands 
of  Frank  Merriwell. 

The  spectators  stared  in  astonishment,  and  Diamond 
gasped: 

"Great  Caesar!  Merry  purposely  let  Flemming  get 
that  hold!" 

"Break  away,  Flem — break  away!"  cried  Tom 
Thornton,  quivering  with  excitement. 

But  Flemming  could  not  break  away,  for  he  had  not 
sufficient  strength  to  do  so. 

"Foul!"  shouted  Emery,  starting  forward,  as  if  he 
would  part  the  combatants. 

In  a  moment  Jack  Diamond's  arm  was  extended  and 
pressed  across  Emery's  breast,  holding  him  back  like  a 
bar  of  iron. 

"There  is  no  foul  in  this  match!"  came  exultantly 
from  the  lips  of  the  Virginian.  "That  was  stated  at 
the  beginning." 

Flemming  made  one  last  feeble  struggle,  and  then 
the  two  lads  went  down  together,  with  Fred  under. 


176  Plotting  Fun. 

They  fell  heavily,  and  Merriwell  came  down  on  his 
enemy  with  his  full  weight. 

A  moment  later  Frank  arose. 

On  the  turf  Fred  Flemming  lay  white  and  still,  his 
eyes  closed. 

"Bring  some  water,"  calmly  directed  the  victor.  "I 
think  Mr.  Flemming  has  been  stunned." 

"This  fall  settles  the  match,"  decided  Hugh  Heffiner. 
"Frank  Merriwell  has  won  by  throwing  Flemming  two 

times  in  succession.     Permit  me  to  congratulate  you, 

t 
Mr.  Merriwell,  for  it  is  apparent  that  you  are  as  expert 

in  the  art  of  wrestling  as  you  have  proved  yourself 
to  be  in  the  other  things  you  have  attempted." 

"Thank  you,"  said  Frank,  simply,  as  he  accepted 
Heffiner's  hand. 

Jack  Diamond  whispered  in  Tom  Thornton's  ear : 

"It  is  your  turn  next!" 

Diamond  called  on  Merriwell  that  evening. 

"You  are  a  dandy,  old  man!"  cried  the  Virginian, 
admiringly.  "You  got  back  at  Flemming  in  great 
shape.  They  say  he  has  been  weak  as  a  rag  ever  since 
you  dropped  him  the  second  time,  and  it  is  pretty  cer- 
tain he  will  hold  you  in  respect  hereafter." 


Plotting  Fun.  177 

"I  shall  be  satisfied  if  he  will  let  me  alone,"  said 
Frank,  quietly.  "I  have  no  grudge  against  him,  but 
the  fellow  who  has  not  the  nerve  to  fight  his  way  in 
this  world  gets  left.  Life  is  a  battle  from  start  to  fin- 
ish, and  the  hardest  fighter  is  the  winner." 

"True,"  nodded  Jack. 

"My  mother  was  one  of  the  gentlest  women  in  the 
world,"  continued  Merriwell.  "Thoughts  of  strife 
and  contention  distressed  her.  To  her  a  personal  en- 
counter was  brutal  and  vulgar,  and  she  instructed  me 
never  to  fight  unless  absolutely  compelled  to  do  so. 
As  far  as  possible  I  have  tried  to  remember  her  teach- 
ings. I  have  not  found  it  possible  to  do  so  at  all  times, 
as  my  enemies  would  ride  over  me  if  I  did.  When  I 
see  that  a  foe  is  determined  to  force  me  into  an  encoun- 
ter then  I  become  the  aggressor.  In  another  thing  my 
mother  was  at  fault.  Many  times  she  told  me 
never  to  strike  the  first  blow.  She  was  wrong.  Often 
the  first  blow  wins  the  battle.  If  a  person  sees  there 
is  certain  to  be  an  encounter,  he  should  do  his  best  to 
get  in  the  first  blow,  and  make  it  a  good  one.  Then 
he  should  not  be  satisfied  to  let  it  rest  there  till  his  en- 


178  Plotting  Fun. 

emy  has  recovered,  but  he  should  follow  it  up.  That 
is  my  belief." 

"And  you  are  right.  Old  man,  you  have  a  level 
head.  I  never  saw  another  fellow  like  you,  Merri- 
well,  and  I  doubt  if  there  is  another  in  the  world." 

Frank  laughed. 

"You  flatter  me,  Diamond." 

"Not  at  all." 

"Ah,  but  you  do.     I  know  my  own  failings." 

"I  wonder  what  they  are?" 

"Do  not  think  for  a  moment  that  I  have  no  failings ! 
I  have  studied  my  own  nature,  and  I  have  discovered 
them.  As  far  as  possible,  I  seek  to  remedy  them.  To 
myself  I  am  a  very  ordinary  sort  of  fellow.  I  know 
it,  Jack.  The  man  who  can  see  no  flaws  in  himself 
is  an  egotist,  a  cad,  and  a  shallow  fool!  As  soon  as 
he  is  perfectly  satisfied  with  himself,  he  ceases  to 
progress — he  deteriorates." 

"That  is  true." 

"Among  my  friends  I  see  many  things  worthy  of 
emulation.  You,  my  dear  Diamond,  are  not  aware 
of  your  own  fine  qualities,  and " 

"That  will  do,  Merry!"  cried  Jack,  blushing.     "I 


Plotting  Fun.  179 

am  sure  that  I  try  to  be  a  gentleman.  My  father  was 
a  true  Southern  gentleman." 

"There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that.  You  show  your 
breeding  in  every  way.  A  natural  gentleman  will  be 
a  gentleman  under  any  circumstances.  He  carries  the 
air  about  him,  and  nothing  can  disguise  it." 

Jack  sat  down. 

"You  have  squared  your  score  with  Flemming,"  he 
said;  "but  I  have  a  little  matter  to  settle  with  Thorn- 
ton. I  am  wondering  how  I  shall  settle  it." 

"Thornton  is  Flemming's  satellite.  It  would  be 
cruel  to  use  him  roughly." 

"But  I  will  not  let  him  off!  He  should  be  taught 
a  lesson." 

"Look  here,  Jack,  I  have  a  scheme," 

"What  is  it?" 

"Let's  put  up  a  racket  on  him." 

"What  sort  of  a  racket?" 

"Oh,  one  out  of  which  we  can  get  some  sport  and 
humiliate  him  at  the  same  time.  I  am  sure  you  do  not 
want  to  fight  with  the  fellow  ?" 

"I  have  been  thinking  that  I  would  be  ashamed  to 
have  an  encounter  with  him." 


i8o  Plotting  Fun. 

"Exactly  so.  Now,  I  know  you  are  not  much  of  a 
fellow  for  pranks,  but  I  hope  you  will  agree  to  this  little 
scheme  of  mine." 

"State  it,"  said  Jack,  rather  doubtfully. 

"Well,  you  know  Thornton  considers  himself  some- 
thing of  a  masher.  He  gets  stuck  on  every  pretty  girl 
who  smiles  on  him." 

"Yes." 

"Danny  Griswold  is  a  daisy  as  an  impersonator  of 
girls.  You  know  he  is  to  play  a  girl's  part  in  one  of 
the  entertainments  to  be  given  in  the  fall.  He  has  done 
the  trick  before,  and  he  sent  home  for  his  outfit  a  week 
ago.  Yesterday,  while  Rattleton  and  I  were  cram- 
ming for  recitations  the  door  opened,  and  a  stunning 
blonde  walked  into  the  room.  She  seemed  confused 
when  she  saw  us,  begged  our  pardon,  and  said  she  was 
looking  for  her  cousin,  Danny  Griswold.  She  had  en- 
tered the  wrong  room  by  accident.  Harry  offered  to 
show  her  to  Danny's  rooms,  but  she  said  she  could 
find  the  way.  Still  she  was  in  no  hurry  to  go,  and  I 
began  to  be  rather  nervous,  for  I  did  not  fancy  the 


Plotting  Fun.  181 

idea  of  having  a  young  lady  without  a  chaperon  visit 
us.  I  feared  it  would  become  known,  and  we  would 
receive  a  reprimand.  She  was  decidedly  giddy,  and 
she  sat  on  the  arm  of  the  'easy-chair  there  and  giggled 
and  said  it  must  be  so  nice  to  be  a  boy  and  go  to  Yale. 
After  a  while  I  began  to  smell  a  rat.  I  got  up  and 
took  a  closer  look  at  her.  Say,  she  was  gotten  up  in 
great  shape !  It  was  that  little  imp  Griswold !" 

"Well,  what  is  your  scheme?"  asked  Jack,  smiling. 

"It  is  to  put  Griswold  onto  Thornton.  Let  Danny 
rig  up  and  see  what  he  can  do.  It's  ten  to  one  Thorn- 
ton will  think  he  has  a  new  mash,  and  then  we  can  have 
any  amount  of  sport  with  the  fellow." 

Jack  looked  more  doubtful  than  ever. 

"I  don't  see  how  that  is  getting  square  with  him," 
he  declared. 

"If  the  game  works,  you  can  pretend  to  be  in  love 
with  the  same  girl.  You  can  challenge  Thornton  to 
mortal  combat.  He  won't  dare  meet  you.  Then  you 
can  expose  him,  and  if  that  will  not  be  getting  even 
with  him  I  don't  know  how  you  can  get  even." 


1 82  Plotting  Fun. 

This  scheme  did  not  exactly  meet  Diamond's  ap- 
proval, and  Frank  found  it  difficult  to  induce  him  to 
agree  to  it.  At  last,  however,  Merriwell  succeeded. 

"We'll  have  barrels  of  fun  out  of  this/'  laughed 
Frank.  "I  feel  in  need  of  a  little  fun  to  wake  me  up." 


CHAPTER  XV. 
THORNTON'S  "MASH." 

Tom  Thornton  was  alone  in  his  room  when  there 
came  a  knock  on  the  door. 

"Come  in,"  called  Tom,  without  turning  his  head  or 
taking  his  feet  down  from  the  table  on  which  they 
were  resting. 

As  he  had  been  out  late  the  night  before,  he  was  not 
in  a  very  agreeable  mood.  He  had  sent  for  his  tailor 
some  time  before,  and  he  supposed  it  was  the  tailor 
who  had  knocked  and  entered  at  his  command. 

"Well,  here  you  are  at  last!"  Tom  growled.  "I've 
waited  long  enough  for  you,  too!  You  are  slower 
that  molasses  in  midwinter!  I  suppose  you  want  to 
know  what  ails  me  now.  Well,  I'll  tell  you.  That 
last  pair  of  trousers  you  made  me  are  too  short  in  the 
waist  and  too  full  around  the  bottoms- — that's  what's 
the  matter.  I'd  be  mobbed  if  I  should  show  myself 
in  them.  Now,  don't  tell  me  they  are  all  right!  I'll 


1 84  Thornton's  ''Mash." 

just  try  them  on  right  before  you,  and  let  you  see 
Great  Jupiter !     What  have  I  been  saying !" 

He  had  turned  his  head,  and  he  saw  a  vision  that 
electrified  him  and  brought  his  feet  down  from  the 
table  with  a  thump. 

Just  within  the  room  a  very  pretty  girl  was  stand- 
ing, and  she  was  staring  at  him  in  a  half-frightened, 
half-amused  manner. 

"I — I — I  beg  your  pup-pup-pardon!"  stammered 
Thornton,  jumping  up,  confused  and  flustered.  "I 
didn't  know !  I — I  thought  it  was  my  tailor !" 

"And  you  nearly  frightened  the  senses  out  of  me  by 
growling  at  me  in  that  way,"  giggled  the  girl.  "Why, 
I  thought  you  were  a  great  horrid  bear,  and  you  were 
going  to  eat  me." 

"If  I  were  a  bear,  I  couldn't  ask  for  a  daintier  meal," 
said  Tom,  gallantly. 

"Oh,  my!"  laughed  the  girl.     "What  a  difference!" 

"I  am  bound  to  even  matters  if  possible." 

"That's  it?  Then  you  did  not  really  mean  what 
you  just  said,  after  all  ?" 

The  smile  vanished  from  her  face,  and  she  seemed  a 
bit  offended. 


Thornton's  "Mash."  185 

"Oh,  yes  I  did — I  vow  I  did !"  exclaimed  Tom,  has- 
tening to  repair  the  "break."  "You  see  I  am  all 
broken  up  by  the  surprise.  I — I  didn't  think  of  seeing 
a  young  lady  here — alone." 

"I  suppose  not.  I  am  looking  for  my  cousin,  Mr. 
Griswold." 

"Griswold?  Griswold?  Why,  I  have  heard  of 
him.  Yes,  he  is  a  soph.  You'll  find  him  over  in  South 
Middle.  This  is  Welch  Hall." 

"Oh,  dear!  Then  I  was  misdirected.  I  was  told 
I'd  find  him  here  somewhere.  I  beg  your  pardon, 
sir." 

"Oh,  don't  mention  it,  Miss — er — Miss " 

"Darling.  My  name  is  Grace  Darling,  and  I  have 
come  down  to  spend  a  week  in  New  Haven.  You  see 
I  am  from  the  country." 

"I  should  say  so!"  thought  Thornton;  "and  as  fresh 
as  they  make  'em!  But  she  is  pretty — yes,  she  is  a 
genuine  stunner!  A  sort  of  wild  flower.  She  is  so 
innocent  and  unsophisticated !" 

"I  presumed  you  were  not  familiar  with  Yale,  or  you 
would  not  be  in  the  dormitories  without  a  chaperon," 
said  Thornton,  aloud.  "It  is  all  right,  though,"  he  has- 


1 86  Thornton's  "Mash." 

tened  to  declare,  as  she  seemed  to  shrink  back.  "I  will 
escort  you  over  to  South  Middle,  and  help  you  find 
your  cousin.  My  name  is  Thornton — Thomas  Thorn- 
ton." 

"You  are  very  good,  Mr.  Thornton,  but  I  think  I 
can  find  Danny  all  right.  I  will  not  put  you  to  the 
trouble." 

"Oh,  it  will  be  no  trouble — not  the  least  in  the  world, 
I  assure  you." 

"Still  I  don't  know  what  Danny  would  think.  Even 
though  your  company  would  be  very  pleasant,  I  dare 
not  accept  it  without  a  proper  introduction,  Mr. — Mr. 
Thornton." 

This  was  said  in  the  most  coquettish  manner  pos- 
sible, and  Tom  Thornton  felt  his  heart  beating  proudly. 

"I've  struck  her  all  right!"  he  told  himself.  "I 
mustn't  let  it  slip.  I'll  improve  the  opportunity." 

So  he  talked  to  her  in  his  most  fascinating  manner, 
and  was  bold  enough  to  express  a  hope  that  he  might 
see  her  again,  to  which  she  replied  that  he  "might." 
And  when  she  left  Tom  was  in  a  state  of  delighted  sat- 
isfaction, thoroughly  pleased  with  himself. 

Thornton  was  inclined  to  boast  of  his  conquests, 


Thornton's  "Mash."  187 

and  it  was  not  long  before  he  had  told  several  of  his 
friends  about  the  "corking  pretty  girl"  who  had  wan- 
dered into  his  room. 

"And  I  caught  her  without  a  struggle,"  he  declared 
repeatedly.  "Country  girl  and  rather  unsophisticated ; 
but  a  regular  rustic  rose — no,  a  regular  daisy.  Cousin 
of  some  fellow  over  in  South  Middle.  Her  name? 
Never  mind.  I  am  not  giving  things  away.  She  is 
going  to  stay  down  a  week,  and  gave  me  her  promise 
that  I  should  see  her  again.  But  she  intends  to  be 
strictly  proper,  although  she  does  not  know  much  of 
city  ways,  for  she  declared  that  I  must  be  properly 
introduced  to  her  before  she  would  make  an  appoint- 
ment with  me.  Oh,  it's  dead  easy  when  you  know 
how!" 

Tad  Horner  was  Thornton's  roommate.  "Grace 
Darling"  had  chosen  an  occasion  when  Tad  was  not  in, 
and  thus  had  found  Tom  alone. 

Tom  boasted  of  his  conquest  to  Tad,  who  grinned 
and  tried  to  chaff  him  about  his  charming  country  girl. 

"Did  she  have  hayseed  in  her  hair?"  asked  Tad. 

"It's  not  that  kind  of  a  lady,  Horner.  They'll  all 
be  envious  of  me.  She  is  a  stunning  blonde,  and  her 


188  Thornton's  "Mash." 

innocent  country  ways  make  her  all  the  more  attractive. 
She  has  such  eyes — and  such  teeth !  Her  lips  are  very 
inviting,  my  dear  boy.  It's  just  the  sort  of  a  mouth  a 
fellow  longs  to  kiss.  And  if  I  do  not  sip  nectar  from 
those  ruby  lips  before  she  returns  to  her  country  home, 
I'll  be  dead  slow." 

"Wow !"  whooped  Tad.  "Sip  nectar !  That  beats  1 
Thornton,  this  rural  maiden  has  knocked  you  silly!" 

"Wait  till  you  see  her,  and  you  will  not  wonder,  my 
boy." 

"I'll  go  something  you  do  not  see  her  again." 

"Oh,  but  I  have  her  promise!" 

"Ah,  she  was  giving  you  a  jolly !" 

"You'll  see!"  cried  Tom,  piqued.  "Just  wait  a 
while." 

Two  days  passed,  and  Thornton  began  to  think  he 
would  not  hear  anything  from  his  "mash."  Then  came 
an  invitation  to  spend  an  evening  at  Winnie  Lee's,  and 
Winnie  hinted  that  among  her  guests  there  was  to  be 
a  young  lady  from  the  country  who  wished  to  apologize 
for  intruding  upon  Mr.  Thornton  in  his  room. 

"It's  Grace  Darling!"  thought  Tom,  exultantly. 
"She  will  be  introduced  to  me!  And  she  must  be  of 


Thornton's  "Mash."  189 

fine  people  to  be  accepted  as  a  guest  at  Miss  Lee's,  for 
the  Lees  belong  to  the  elite  of  the  town.  Oh,  Gracie  is 
all  right,  if  she  is  from  the  country!" 

On  the  evening  of  the  party  Tom  arrayed  himself 
in  his  finest,  used  perfumery  liberally — too  liberally — 
on  his  handkerchief  and  his  clothes,  and  set  out  with  a 
light  heart  for  Miss  Lee's. 

As  old  readers  know,  Winnie  Lee  and  Frank  Merri- 
well  were  very  friendly.  As  Winnie  was  of  a  lively 
disposition  and  enjoyed  a  joke  thoroughly,  it  was  not 
difficult  for  Frank  to  induce  her  to  aid  him  in  carry- 
ing out  his  plan. 

Winnie  was  all  the  more  ready  to  do  so  because  she 
disliked  Tom  Thornton,  who  had  made  himself  offen- 
sive by  having  declared  that  he  could  "catch"  her 
without  a  struggle  if  he  so  desired,  but  she  was  not  his 
style. 

This  had  been  repeated  to  Winnie,  and  she  had 
treated  Thornton  with  the  utmost  disdain  since  hear- 
ing it;  but  Frank  had  urged  her  to  consent  to  invite 
Tom  to  the  party  that  the  joke  might  be  carried  out, 
and  she  finally  had  consented. 


190  Thornton's  "Mash." 

For  a  moment  Thornton  wondered  when  he  re- 
ceived the  invitation,  and  then  he  decided  that  "Grace 
Darling"  must  have  induced  Miss  Lee  to  offer  it. 

Tom  little  dreamed  of  the  surprising  events  that 
were  to  take  place  before  the  evening  was  passed. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

ANOTHER    CHALLENGE. 

Thornton  found  Merriwell,  Diamond,  Rattleton  and 
Browning  were  among  Winnie  Lee's  guests.  This  he 
had  expected,  however,  and  he  was  resolved  to  notice 
them  as  little  as  possible. 

Willis  Paulding  was  there,  and  Tad  Horner  came 
later,  much  to  Tom's  surprise,  as  he  had  not  known 
Tad  had  been  invited. 

There  were  a  number  of  jolly  girls,  and  Thornton 
was  not  long  in  looking  around  for  Grace  Darling. 

When  Tom  finally  discovered  her,  to  his  disgust, 
she  was  chatting  with  Jack  Diamond  in  a  cozy  corner, 
which  was  almost  shut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  room 
by  portieres. 

"Hang  that  fellow!"  thought  Thornton.  "He  has 
been  introduced  to  her,  and  he  has  lost  no  time  in  get- 
ting in  his  work." 

As  soon  as  Diamond  left  the  girl  Tom  hastened  to 


192  Another  Challenge. 

find  Winnie  Lee,  of  whom  he  requested  an  introduc- 
tion to  "Miss  Darling." 

"Oh,  yes!"  said  Winnie,  laughing;  "she  spoke  of 
you,  but  I  had  almost  forgotten.  I  trust  you  will  find 
her  very  entertaining,  Mr.  Thornton." 

"I  am  sure  I  shall,"  said  Tom.  "We  have  seen  each 
other,  you  know,  but  have  not  been  introduced." 

"And  she  is  very  particular  about  that.  Being  bred 
in  the  country,  she  is  not  fully  conversant  with  the  ways 
of  the  world,  but  she  knows  an  introduction  is  the 
proper  thing,  and  she  insists  on  that.  There  she  is." 

"Miss  Darling"  was  seen  chatting  with  a  number 
of  young  gentlemen  and  ladies  who  had  gathered  about 
her. 

The  group  scattered  as  Winnie  and  Tom  came  up, 
"Miss  Darling"  saw  them,  and  timidly  held  her  fan 
before  her  face,  peering  over  it  shyly. 

"Mr.  Thornton,"  laughed  Winnie  Lee,  "it  gives  me 
the  greatest  pleasure  to  introduce  you  to  Miss  Darling." 

Tom  bowed  profoundly,  while  the  girl  giggled,  and 
made  a  courtesy.  Winnie  Lee  laughed  more  than 
ever. 


Another  Challenge.  193 

At  a  distance  Frank  Merriwell  and  Jack  Diamond 
were  watching. 

"Will  you  see  Winnie  Lee !"  softly  exclaimed  Merri- 
well. "She  is  nearly  exploding  with  laughter.  She 
can't  hold  it.  It  will  be  a  miracle  if  Thornton  does 
not  tumble." 

"All  the  others  are  laughing,"  said  Jack.  "They 
had  to  get  away  when  Thornton  was  introduced.  He 
will  be  crazy  when  he  finds  out  how  he  has  been 
fooled." 

Frank  was  laughing. 

"Oh,  yes ;  he'll  tear  his  hair.  The  story  is  bound  to 
circulate.  Don't  give  him  too  much  time  with  Gris- 
wold  before  you  get  in  your  work  and  challenge  him. 
Horner  is  in  the  game,  and  he  has  agreed  to  help  it 
along." 

"Thornton  will  murder  Horner." 

"It  will  be  remarkable  if  they  do  not  suddenly  cease 
to  room  together." 

"Have  you  brought  the  pistols  ?" 
•  "You  bet!     Everything  is  ready.     Willis  Paulding 
must  be  involved.     We  must  soak  him,  as  well  as 
Thornton.     There  go  Thornton  and  his  mash  toward 


194  Another  Challenge. 

the  cozy  corner.  You  must  intrude  before  it  becomes 
too  warm  for  Griswold,  or  he  is  liable  to  give  the  whole 
snap  away." 

In  the  meantime  Thornton  had  expressed  his  delight 
at  meeting  his  charmer  again,  and  had  led  her  away  to 
the  very  cozy  corner  in  which  he  had  seen  her  chatting 
so  vivaciously  with  Jack  Diamond. 

Once  in  the  corner  the  girl  ensconced  herself  in  the 
shadow  of  the  portieres,  and,  for  the  first  time,  the 
fan  dropped  from  her  face. 

"This  is  charming,"  declared  Thornton,  in  his  most 
fascinating  manner.  "Ever  since  I  first  saw  you  I 
have  dreamed  of  an  occasion  like  this,  Miss  Darling." 

The  girl  giggled. 

"Oh,  you  are  such  a  flatterer,  Mr.  Thornton!"  she 
returned,  leaning  toward  him. 

"Not  at  all,"  declared  Tom,  as,  apparently  by  acci- 
dent, his  hand  fell  on  hers  and  remained  there.  "I  am 
telling  you  the  truth.  Since  that  hour  when  fate  led 
you  to  my  room,  I  have  thought  of  you  almost  con- 
stantly by  day,  and  I  have  dreamed  of  you  at  night. 
Your  face  has  been  before  my  eyes  continually." 


Another  Challenge.  195 

Her  head  was  bowed,  so  he  could  not  see  her  eyes. 
He  felt  her  hand  quiver  in  his  clasp. 

"Oh,  I  am  not  doing  a  thing!"  was  his  mental  ex- 
clamation. "She  can't  resist  me!" 

He  grew  bolder  with  amazing  rapidity.  He  seemed 
to  fancy  that  he  could  do  so  with  this  unsophisticated 
country  girl  without  being  "called  down." 

"Miss  Darling,"  he  murmured,  leaning  yet  nearer 
to  her,  and  holding  her  hand  with  both  of  his  own,  "do 
you  believe  in  love  at  first  sight  ?" 

She  giggled  again. 

"Why,  I  don't  know,"  she  confessed. 

"I  do,"  declared  Tom.  "I  did  not  till  I  met  you, 
but  since  that  delightful  moment  I  have." 

"Oh,  rot !"  the  girl  seemed  to  say. 

"Eh  ?"  exclaimed  Thornton,  in  astonishment.  "What 
did  you  say?" 

"I  said,  'I  think  not,'  "  was  the  laughing  answer. 
"My  cousin  has  told  be  all  about  college  fellows,  and 
how  they  pretend  to  be  all  broken  up  over  a  girl,  but 
are  giving  her  the  dead  jolly  all  the  time." 

Tom  gasped,  for  the  girl  rattled  off  slang  as  if  thor- 


196  Another  Challenge. 

oughly  familiar  with  it.  But  this  dampened  Thorn- 
ton's ardor  for  no  more  than  a  moment. 

"I  never  give  any  one  a  jolly,  Miss  Darling,"  he 
declared,  trying  to  appear  sincere.  "Miss  Darling!" 
he  murmured.  "What  a  sweet  name!  And  it  suits 
you  so  well !"  ••'"> 

"Do  you  think  so?"  laughed  the  girl. 

"I  do — I  do!"  palpitated  Thornton.  "It  will  be  a 
lucky  fellow  who  can  call  you  his  darling!  If  I 
might " 

"Mr.  Thornton,  you  are  presuming!  This  is  too 
much!" 

Then  Jack  Diamond  suddenly  appeared,  and  asked: 

"Did  you  call  for  aid,  Miss  Darling?" 

"I  was  about  to  do  so,"  declared  the  girl.  "Mr. 
Thornton  has  been  very  presuming  and  forward." 

"Then  Mr.  Thornton  shall  answer  to  me!"  came 
sternly  from  Jack's  lips.  "If  he  is  not  a  coward,  he 
will  come  outside." 

Tom  turned  pale  and  stammered.  He  felt  like  re- 
fusing to  go  outside,  but  he  feared  the  girl  would 
think  him  a  coward.  Then  he  looked  around,  and  his 
eyes  fell  on  Willis  Paulding. 


Another  ChaHenge.  197 

"Yes,  I  will  go  out  with  you,"  he  said. 

"Miss  Darling"  seemed  to  be  overcome  with  fear. 

"Don't  kill  him,  Jack!"  she  whispered.  . 

So  she  addressed  Diamond  as  "Jack."  That  fired 
Thornton  till  he  longed  to  strangle  the  Virginian. 

"Lead  on!"  he  exclaimed.     "I  will  follow." 

They  left  the  room,  Thornton  calling  to  Willis,  who 
followed  them,  wonderingly. 

Diamond  had  made  a  signal  to  Merriwell,  and  Frank 
was  not  far  behind. 

Diamond  led  the  way  to  the  garden. 

It  was  a  moonlight  night,  and  seemed  almost  as 
light  as  day. 

"Mr.  Thornton,"  said  Diamond,  sternly,  "you  have 
grossly  insulted  a  young  lady  friend  of  mine.  It  is  my 
duty  to  protect  her.  I  challenge  you  to  fight  me,  the 
weapons  to  be  pistols,  the  place  here,  and  the^time  now. 
Your  answer,  sir — your  answer !" 

Thornton   turned   pale,   and   hesitated.     He  knew 
nothing  of  dueling,  and  therefore  did  not  know  that,  -. 
being  the  challenged  party,  it  was  his  privilege  to  name 
the  weapons,  the  time  and  the  place. 

In  a  moment,  he  found  Tad  Horner  at  his  elbow. 


198  Another  Challenge. 

Where  Tad  had  come  from  and  how  he  happened  to 
be  there  Tom  could  not  conceive.  But  Tad  was  on 
hand,  and  he  whispered: 

"Take  him  up,  old  man — take  him  up!  He  is  a 
regular  fire-eater — in  his  mind.  He  thinks  you  will 
squeal.  If  he  finds  you  will  fight,  he  is  sure  to  back 
out.  He  hasn't  any  real  nerve.  If  he  does  fight,  I'll 
fix  it  all  right,  for  I  will  see  that  the  pistols  are  loaded 
with  blank  cartridges.  After  the  first  shot,  I  will  de- 
mand that  the  duel  cease.  Thus  you  will  get  the  repu- 
tation of  having  fought  a  duel,  without  incurring  any 
danger  to  yourself." 

Thornton  was  pleased  with  the  scheme.  He  wished 
to  be  considered  a  dare-devil  sort  of  fellow,  and  he  felt 
that  it  would  give  him  a  great  reputation  if  he  fought 
a  real  duel. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  turning  to  Diamond,  "I  accept  your 
challenge,  and  I  shall  do  my  best  to  shoot  you  through 
the  heart  I" 

Five  minutes  later  came  the  question : 

"Gentlemen,  are  you  ready?" 

"AH  ready,"  answered  both  Diamond  and  Thorntoa 


Another  Challenge.  199 

"I  will  count  three,  and  then  give  the  word,"  said 
Frank  Merriwell,  distinctly.  "One!" 

Despite  himself,  Willis  Paulding  felt  his  flesh  creep 
and  heard  his  teeth  chatter. 

Thornton  was  shaking,  even  though  he  had  been  as- 
sured by  Tad  Horner  that  there  were  no  bullets  in  the 
pistols. 

Diamond  was  cool  as  an  iceberg.  The  bright  moon- 
light seemed  to  show  a  look  of  deadly  determination 
on  his  face. 

"Confound  him!"  thought  Thornton,  quaking. 
"He'd  as  lief  fight  a  duel  as  eat !  Hang  those  South- 
erners !  They  do  not  know  what  it  is  to  be  afraid !" 

"Two !"  counted  Merriwell. 

The  duelists  raised  their  weapons  and  seemed  to  take 
careful  aim. 

"Three—fire!" 

At  that  instant  there  was  a  scream,  and  a  female  fig- 
ure sprang  out  from  the  shadows  and  rushed  before 
Jack  just  as  Thornton  pulled  the  trigger. 

There  was  a  single  report,  and  the  female  figure 


200  Another  Challenge. 

dropped  to  the  ground,  although  Diamond  tried  to 
catch  her  in  his  arms. 

Thornton,  the  smoking  pistol  in  his  hand,  stood 
staring,  as  if  turned  to  stone. 

"Good  gracious!"  gasped  Willis  Paulding.  "You 
have  shot  somebody,  Thornton,  deah  boy !" 

"There  must  have  been  some  mistake,"  said  Tad 
Horner.  "It  seems  that  there  was  a  bullet  in  your  pis- 
tol, Tom!" 

Thornton  hurried  forward  and  looked  down  at  the 
fallen  girl,  whose  eyes  were  closed,  and  whose  face 
seemed  ghastly  pale  in  the  white  moonlight. 

"It  is  Miss  Darling !"  came  hoarsely  from  Tom.  "I 
have  killed  her!" 

"Don't  let  the  murderer  escape!"  cried  Diamond, 
sternly.  "Seize  him  and  his  second!  They  are  both 
guilty!" 

"Excuse  me!"  fluttered  Willis  Paulding.  "I  think 
I  will  go  right  away,  don't  yer  'now !" 

Then  he  took  to  his  heels,  and  ran,  as  if  pursued  by  a 
hundred  officers  of  the  law. 

Thornton  was  scarcely  less  terrified,  and  he  slipped 


Another  Challenge.  201 

away  into  the  shadows  while  the  others  were  gathered 
around  the  fallen  girl. 

When  both  Willis  and  Tom  were  gone,  the  girl 
suddenly  sat  up,  and  burst  into  a  peal  of  boyish  laugh- 
ter. 

"There!"  cried  the  voice  of  Danny  Griswold; 
"didn't  I  do  that  all  right  ?  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if 
Thornton's  hair  turned  gray.  But  I'm  going  to  get 
out  of  this  rig  as  soon  as  possible.  These  corsets  are 
killing  me.  I  can't  get  a  full  breath." 

"You  little  rascal!"  laughed  Frank  Merriwell,  as 
he  gave  Giswold  a  shake.  "You  are  a  born  actor,  and 
you  have  given  Tom  Thornton  a  shock  that  he  will  not 
get  over  for  some  time — to  say  nothing  of  Willis 
Paulding." 

"If  it  cures  Thornton  of  bragging  about  his  mashes 
I'll  be  satisfied,"  said  Tad  Horner.  "But  I'm  afraid 
he'll  never  forgive  me.  I'll  have  to  make  a  hustle 
and  find  him  before  he  does  something  desperate.  I'll 
tell  him  Miss  Darling  simply  fainted,  and  was  not  in- 
jured at  all.  Good-night,  fellows.  See  you  later." 

Then  he  hastened  away. 


2O2  Another  Challenge. 

"Well,  Jack,"  said  Frank,  addressing  Diamond,  "it 
strikes  me  that  you  and  I  are  more  than  square  with 
Mr.  Flemming  and  Mr.  Thornton." 

"I  think  that  is  right,"  admitted  the  Virginian,  with 
a  grim  smile. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

PURE   GRIT. 

All  other  college  sports  seem  to  grow  dim  in  com- 
parison with  the  great  spring  race.  It  is  the  crown- 
ing athletic  event  of  the  season.  The  vast  gathering 
of  people  at  New  London  occurs  but  once  a  year,  and 
the  only  event  to  be  compared  with  it  is  the  annual  foot- 
ball game  in  New  York. 

New  London  for  a  week  before  the  race  is  filled  with 
"old  grads,"  fathers  of  Yale  men  who  are  interested 
in  boating,  college  lads,  mothers  of  students,  sisters 
and  sweethearts. 

At  Eastern  Point  the  Fort  Griswold  House  is 
thronged  with  persons  of  this  sort.  The  Pequod  is 
overflowing.  On  the  broad  piazzas  old  classmates 
meet  and  talk  over  former  victories  and  defeats.  There 
they  watch  the  thronging  craft  upon  the  river. 

Every  one  talks  boating,  whether  he  knows  anything 
about  it  or  not.  "Willie  off  the  yacht"  is  there,  togged 
in  flannels  and  making  a  desperate  struggle  to  roll  in 


204  Pure  Grit. 

his  gait.  For  a  week,  at  least,  he  is  a  waterman,  with 
the  salt  flavor  in  everything  he  says  or  does. 

And  the  girls — the  girls!  They,  too,  dress  in  flan- 
nels and  yachting  caps,  and  they  try  to  talk  knowingly 
about  "strokes/'  "oars"  and  "the  crew."  But  they  are 
charming— every  one  of  them ! 

Yale  and  Harvard's  quarters  are  on  the  left  bank 
near  Gale's  Ferry.  Many  of  the  "old  oars"  are  per- 
mitted to  visit  the  crew.  The  great  coachers  are  there. 
They  are  regarded  with  awe  and  respect,  for  surely 
they  know  everything  there  is  to  know  about  racing ! 

The  race  comes  off  at  five  in  the  afternoon.  By 
midday  the  town  is  full,  and  every  train  brings  fresh 
throngs  of  laughing  girls  and  boisterous  students.  All 
are  decorated  with  the  blue  or  the  crimson.  Flags  are 
everywhere,  and  there  are  horns  in  abundance. 

At  the  docks  the  great  Sound  steamers  are  moored, 
and  they  are  packed  with  sight-seers.  There  are  num- 
berless yachts  on  the  river,  all  decorated  with  gay 
colors  and  thronged  with  gay  parties. 

Within  the  boathouse,  preparations  were  being  made 
for  the  race.  Collingwood  was  giving  final  instruc- 
tions to  his  men.  Bastow,  an  old  coach,  was  surveying 


Pure  Grit.  205 

each  and  every  one  in  the  most  critical  manner  pos- 
sible. 

They  were  handsome  fellows,  these  men  of  the  crew. 
Their  flesh  was  brown  and  firm,  and  their  eyes  were 
bright.  They  had  broad  backs  and  powerful  shoulders. 

Collingwood  looked  troubled.  It  was  evident  there 
was  something  on  his  mind.  Fred  Flemming,  in  a  new 
spring  suit,  is  talking  with  Popkay,  the  little  cox. 
Some  wonder  that  Flemming,  who  had  been  dropped 
for  Merriwell,  should  be  there. 

Among  the  spectators  on  a  certain  yacht  are  Tom 
Thornton  and  Willis  Paulding.  They  are  watching 
for  the  crew  to  appear,  and,  as  they  watch,  Thornton 
says  something  that  betrays  a  knowledge  of  Flem- 
ming's  presence  in  the  boathouse. 

"I'll  go  you  two  to  one  that  Flem  rows  after  all," 
he  declares.  "Do  you  dare  take  me,  Paulding?" 

"By  the  way  you  say  that  I  should  think  you  were 
betting  on  a  sure  thing,  don't  y6r  'now,"  drawled 
Willis. 

"I  am,"  asserted  Tom.  "I  have  it  straight  that 
Merriwell  is  not  in  trim,  and  will  be  laid  off.  Flem- 
ming was  called  to  quarters  at  the  last  moment." 


206  Pure  Grit. 

"It'll  be  a  corker  on  Merriwell  if  he  is  not  allowed 
to  row,  by  Jawve !" 

"Yes;  it  will  give  me  no  end  of  satisfaction.  That 
fellow  put  up  the  'Grace  Darling'  job  on  me,  and  Dia- 
mond helped  him  to  carry  it  out.  I  have  been  a  guy 
for  the  whole  college  ever  since  Danny  Griswold  told 
down  at  Morey's  how  he  fooled  me.  Some  day  I'll 
wring  that  little  rat's  neck !" 

"They  never  could  have  worked  the  game  if  Hor- 
ner  hadn't  helped  them." 

"Of  course  not;  but  I  have  cut  clear  of  Homer. 
We  have  separated,  and  I  never  give  the  fellow  a  look 
when  we  meet.  Like  the  other  fools,  he  is  stuck  on 
Merriwell,  and  he  thought  he  was  doing  something 
cunning  when  he  helped  them  work  the  horse  on  me." 

"If  Merriwell  doesn't  row  you'll  have  a  chance  to  get 
back  at  them.  You  can  say  you  knew  it  all  the  time, 
old  chappie." 

"Oh,  he  won't  row  to-day,  and  I'll  rub  it  in  when  I 
get  the  opportunity." 

Within  the  boathouse,  at  this  very  moment,  Bob 
Collingwood  was  saying  to  Frank  Merriwell: 


Pure  Grit  207 

"You  cannot  row  in  the  race  to-day,  Merriwdl. 
You  are  out  of  condition." 

Frank  turned  pale, 

"If  you  say  I  can't  row,  that  settles  it,"  he  said, 
huskily;  "but  I  think  you  are  making  a  mistake.  1 
can  row,  and  I'll  prove  it,  if  you  will  give  me  the 
chance.  You  shall  have  no  cause  to  complain  of  me." 

"But  I  know  you  are  not  fit  to  pull  an  oar.  You 
have  tried  to  conceal  it  from  me,  but  I  know  you  have 
a  felon  on  your  hand.  Am  I  right?" 

"You  are  right,"  calmly  admitted  Frank;  "but  give 
me  a  chance,  and  I  will  row  for  all  there  is  in  me, 
even  if  it  takes  my  arm  off  at  the  shoulder." 

Collingwood  looked  into  Merriwell's  eyes,  and 
what  he  saw  there  caused  him  to  say:  "All  right,  my 
boy,  you  shall  row  if  we  lose  by  it." 

"If  we  lose  the  race  it  will  not  be  my  fault,"  returned 
Merriwell. 

The  Harvard  cheer  broke  from  a  thousand  throats 
as  the  Harvard  crew  came  down  the  stream  and  ar- 
rived first  at  the  start.  Yale  followed  almost  imme- 
diately, and  two  students  who  were  on  a  trim  little 


2o8  Pure  Grit. 

yacht  craned  their  necks  and  glared  at  the  men  in  the 
boat. 

Something  like  a  groan  escaped  the  lips  of  Tom 
Thornton,  and  Willis  Paulding  declared: 

"I  don't  see  Flemming,  but  Merriwell  is  there !" 

"Yes!"  grates  Tom;  "he  has  managed  to  keep  his 
place  somehow!  Well,  that  settles  it!  Harvard  will 
win!" 

Orders  were  shouted,  and  then  it  was  seen  that  both 
crews  were  "set."  The  men,  their  brown  backs  gleam- 
ing in  the  afternoon  sunshine,  were  reaching  forward 
at  arm's  length,  ready  for  the  first  stroke. 

A  voice  was  heard  commanding  them  to  make  ready, 
then  came  the  cry:  "Go!" 

There  was  a  pistol  shot,  and  both  boats  darted  for- 
ward. The  four-mile  race  to  the  railway  bridge  piers 
of  New  London  had  begun. 

In  an  instant  the  great  crowd  set  up  a  wild  cheering, 
and  colors  fluttered  everywhere.  Away  went  the  boats, 
side  by  side.  Harvard's  style  of  rowing  had  changed 
completely  from  that  of  the  previous  year,  when  her 
boat  had  jumped  at  every  stroke.  Now  her  crew  bent 


Pure  Grit.  209 

with  a  long  sweep  that  sent  the  boat  thiuugh  the  water 
with  a  steady  motion. 

Yale  used  a  shorter  and  more  snappy  stroke.  The 
men  seemed  to  have  more  life  at  the  start,  but  it  was 
the  kind  of  a  stroke  that  was  sure  to  pump  away  their 
energy  to  a  great  extent  in  a  long  race. 

But  Collingwood  was  crafty.  He  knew  that  it 
would  be  an  easy  thing  to  take  the  life  out  of  his  men 
by  steep  work  at  the  beginning,  and  he  doubted  if  the 
advantage  thus  gained  could  be  held.  To  a  certain 
extent,  he  regulated  Yale's  speed  by  that  of  its  rival. 

In  his  heart  Collingwood  feared  Harvard's  new 
style  of  rowing.  He  was  not  willing  to  acknowledge 
that  anything  English  could  be  superior  to  anything 
American,  and  yet  he  remembered  how  the  freshmen 
of  'Umpty-eight,  coached  by  Merriwell,  had  adopted 
something  like  the  Oxford  stroke,  and  had  won  the 
race  from  the  sophomores  at  Lake  Saltonstall.  He  also 
remembered  Merriwell's  hand,  and  he  feared  the  fel- 
low must  give  out  before  the  finish. 

If  Yale  could  hold  her  own  till  near  the  end  Col- 
lingwood hoped  to  win  by  a  spurt.  Outside  of  Merri- 
well, he  felt  that  the  crew  was  in  perfect  condition. 


2io  Pure  Grit. 

He  was  sure  the  men  were  superior  to  those  in  the  Har- 
vard boat. 

Harvard  begins  to  gain.  That  strong,  steady  stroke 
is  telling.  It  looks  as  if  the  crimson  lads  were  going  to 
pull  away  from  the  blue  with  ease. 

Collingwood  does  not  allow  himself  to  get  excited  in 
the  least.  He  keeps  his  men  steadily  at  work,  husband- 
ing their  strength  as  far  as  possible. 

"'Rah!  'rah!  'rah!  Harvard!  Harvard!"  roared  the 
crowd. 

Frank  Merriwell  was  working  perfectly  with  the 
rest,  and  no  one  could  imagine  from  his  appearance 
that  every  stroke  seemed  to  drive  a  keen  knife  from  his 
wrist  to  his  elbow.  His  face  was  very  pale,  but  that 
was  all. 

At  the  end  of  the  first  mile  Harvard  was  two  lengths 
in  advance,  and  seemed  to  be  gaining.  Still  Yale 
worked  steadily,  showing  no  signs  of  excitement  or 
alarm. 

The  crowds  on  the  yachts  were  waving  hats  and 
handkerchiefs  and  flags.  They  cheered  and  yelled  and 
hooted  like  human  beings  gone  mad.  It  was  a  scene 
of  the  wildest  excitement. 


Pure  Grit.  211 

It  had  become  plain  to  all,  despite  the  fact  that  Har- 
vard had  a  lead,  that  the  race  was  to  be  a  stern  one. 
Yale  was  out  to  win,  if  such  a  thing  "lay  in  the  wood." 

When  the  second  mile  was  passed  Harvard  was  still 
another  length  in  advance.  But  Yale  was  beginning 
to  work  up  steadily,  forcing  Harvard  to  a  more  des- 
perate struggle  to  hold  her  advantage. 

When  the  two  and  a  half  mile  flag  was  passed  it  was 
seen  that  Yale  had  begun  to  creep  up.  Still  she  was 
not  dangerous.  Her  friends  were  encouraged,  how- 
ever, and  the  sound  all  Yale  men  love — the  Yale  yell 
— could  be  heard  above  the  roaring  of  the  crowd. 

That  sound  seemed  to  put  fresh  life  and  heart  into 
the  Yale  crew.  At  the  beginning  of  the  last  mile  Har- 
vard was  scarcely  two  lengths  in  advance. 

It  was  a  wonderful  race.  The  excitement  was  at 
the  highest  pitch. 

The  Harvard  crew,  although  it  had  started  out  so 
beautifully,  had  not  the  stamina  to  endure  the  strain. 
No.  3  was  pulling  out  of  the  boat,  while  No.  5  showed 
signs  of  distress. 

Yale  begins  to  spurt.  Her  men  are  working  like 
machinery.  No  one  could  dream  that  one  of  them 


212  Pure  Grit. 

was  suffering  the  tortures  of  a  being  on  the  rack,  and 
still  such  was  the  truth. 

A  hundred  times  it  seemed  to  Frank  Merriwell  that 
he  must  give  out ;  a  hundred  times  he  set  his  teeth  and 
vowed  that  he  would  die  before  he  would  weaken.  No 
one  could  know  the  almost  superhuman  courage  and 
fortitude  which  enabled  him  to  keep  up  and  continue 
his  work  in  the  proper  manner.  Those  who  watched 
the  crew  closely  fancied  that  he  worked  with  the  utmost 
ease,  for  all  of  the  long  pull. 

Collingwood  had  forgotten  Merriwell's  felon.  He 
was  reckoning  on  the  final  spurt  to  bring  "Old  Eli"  to 
the  front.  Harder  and  harder  he  worked  his  men. 

Now  the  uproar  along  the  river  was  deafening.  The 
prow  of  the  Yale  boat  was  at  Harvard's  stern — and 
then  Yale  began  to  creep  along  by  Harvard's  side. 

No.  7  of  the  Harvard  crew  reeled  on  his  seat.  Then 
he  braced  up  and  went  at  it  again.  But  he  was  not  in 
stroke.  The  faces  of  both  crews  were  set.  They  were 
like  gladiators  battling  for  their  very  lives. 

In  the  Yale  boat  was  one  who  seemed  to  be  growing 
blind  and  numb.  In  his  heart  he  was  praying  for 
strength  as  earnestly  as  he  would  have  prayed  for  the 


Pure  Grit.  213 

salvation  of  his  soul.  Only  a  few  moments  more — 
he  must  hold  out. 

The  boats  were  side  by  side,  and  the  excitement 
'.vas  simply  indescribable.  Such  a  finish  was  unprece- 
dented. It  was  a  race  to  be  remembered  for  all  years 
to  come — to  be  spoken  of  with  pride  and  discussed  with 
wonder. 

Then  came  the  moment  when  Collingwood  drove 
his  men  for  all  there  was  in  them.  He  was  pitiless, 
and  Yale  shot  into  the  lead. 

The  line  was  crossed.  Then  cannons  boomed  and 
whistles  shrieked.  But  in  the  Yale  boat  was  one  whosd 
ears  were  deaf  to  all  this  tumult  of  sound. 

Frank  Merriwell  had  fallen  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat 
in  a  dead  faint. 

But  Yale — Yale  had  won! 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

AFTER   THE   BOAT   RACE. 

"Breka  Co  ax  Co  ax  Co  ax ! 

Breka  Co  ax  Co  ax  Co  ax ! 

O— up!    O— up! 

Paraboleau ! 

Yale!    Yale!    Yale! 

'Rah !  'rah !  'rah ! 

•Yale!!!" 

Imagine  a  thousand,  full-lunged,  hearty,  healthy 
American  lads  shouting  this  cry  in  unison!  It  was  a 
sound  never  to  be  forgotten  by  those  who  heard  it. 
The  victorious  blue  fluttered  everywhere. 

Harvard  had  made  a  gallant  fight,  and  it  had  been 
"nobody's  race"  almost  to  the  finish.  The  Yale  crew 
proved  superior,  but  it  won  purely  by  brawn  and  stam- 
ina. Old  oars  confessed  that  up  to  the  last  half  mile 
Harvard  had  shown  better  coaching  and  had  seemed 
to  establish  the  superiority  of  the  Oxford  oar  and 
stroke  over  American  methods. 

"But  "Old  Eli"  had  seemed  to  feel  that  it  would  be 
a  lasting  disgrace  to  be  vanquished  by  anything  about 


After  the  Boat  Race.  215 

which  there  was  an  English  flavor.  The  spirit  of 
Bunker  Hill  and  '76  was  aroused,  and  the  defenders  of 
the  blue  were  willing  to  die  in  the  struggle  if  such  a 
sacrifice  could  bring  victory. 

It  was  not  the  first  time  that  pure  grit  had  won 
against  odds. 

As  the  Yale  boat  crossed  the  line  Frank  lay,  deaf  to 
all  the  tumult  of  applause,  his  eyes  closed,  but  still  with 
his  pale  face  set  in  a  look  of  mingled  pain  and  unyield- 
ing determination. 

"It's  Merriwell!"  exclaimed  Bob  Collingwood.  "I 
had  forgotten  him." 

His  words  were  drowned  by  the  roaring  of  the  ex- 
cited thousands  and  the  shrieking  of  the  whistles. 

The  prow  of  the  Yale  boat  was  turned  toward  the 
bank.  It  was  necessary  to  avoid  the  craft  that  came 
rushing  about  on  every  side,  but  the  shore  was  soon 
reached. 

"Hold  her  steady !"  cried  Collingwood.  "Somebody 
dash  water  into  Merriwell's  face." 

The  command  was  obeyed,  and  in  a  moment  Frank 
opened  his  eyes.  It  was  at  the  moment  when  the  Yale 
cheer  was  pealing  from  a  thousand  throats,  and  the 


216  After  the  Boat  Race. 

look  of  pain  on  Merriwell's  face  changed  to  one  of  satis- 
faction and  joy. 

"Did  we  win  ?"  he  huskily  asked. 

Collingwood  nodded,  his  flushed  face  beaming,  pride 
in  his  big  blue  eyes. 

"You  bet!"  he  answered.  "It's  hard  to  beat  Old 
Eli!" 

"I  am  satisfied!"  gasped  Merriwell. 

His  eyes  drooped,  and  he  seemed  on  the  verge  of 
going  off  into  another  swoon. 

"Throw  more  water  on  him,"  pitilessly  directed  Col- 
lingwood. 

It  was  done,  and  Frank  started  up,  gasping. 

"Here — here!"  exclaimed  a  man  on  the  bank;  "give 
him  a  pull  at  this.  It  will  fix  him  all  right" 

He  stooped  down  and  held  out  a  flask. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Frank. 

"It's  the  best  brandy  money  can  buy,"  was  the  an- 
swer. 

It  was  passed  to  Frank,  but  he  pushed  it  away,  shak- 
ing his  head. 

"I  never  touch  liquor,"  he  declared.  "I  do  not  want 
it." 


After  the  Boat  Race.  217 

"But  it  will  not  hurt  you  now — it  will  do  you  good," 
declared  the  man  who  owned  the  flask. 

"I  can  get  along  without  it." 

"But  I  shall  be  offended  if  you  do  not  take  it." 

Frank  looked  sharply  at  the  man.  He  saw  a  sun- 
tanned individual,  who  wore  a  wide-brimmed  hat  and 
was  dressed  in  clothes  which  were  worn  and  appeared 
to  have  been  made  for  service  rather  than  for  fit  and 
elegance.  There  was  something  piercing  about  the 
man's  dark  eyes,  and  something  about  the  beardless 
face  that  impressed  it  upon  the  boy's  memory.  There 
was  a  small  purple  scar  on  the  man's  chin,  and  Frank 
noted  this,  although  he  might  have  overlooked  it  easily 
in  that  hasty  glance. 

"Then  you  will  have  to  be  offended,  sir,"  said  Frank, 
firmly.  "I  do  not  wish  to  appear  rude,  but  I  never 
drink  under  any  circumstances,  and  I  will  not  begin 
now." 

The  man  drew  back  after  the  flask  was  returned  to 
him.  The  last  look  he  gave  the  boy  was  peculiar,  as 
Frank  could  not  tell  whether  it  was  one  of  satisfaction 
or  anger. 

In  a  moment  this  man  was  forgotten.    The  boat 


218  After  the  Boat  Race. 

slipped  out  to  the  Clyde,  the  little  steam  yacht  that 
was  to  take  the  victorious  crew  back  to  quarters.  The 
exhaused  rowers  were  lifted  on  board  amid  renewed 
cheering,  and  the  trip  up  the  river  began. 

It  was  a  triumphant  procession.  All  along  the  line 
the  Clyde,  which  was  decorated  with  blue,  was  re- 
ceived with  cheers  and  shrieking  whistles.  Men  waved 
hats  and  flags,  pretty  girls  fluttered  handkerchiefs  and 
pennants,  squads  of  students  gave  the  Yale  cheer  at  in- 
tervals, and  two  scores  of  boats,  crowded  with  students 
and  friends,  accompanied  the  boat  that  carried  the  vic- 
torious crew.  The  jubilant  Yale  men  sang  songs  of 
victory  and  cheered  till  their  throats  ached  and  they 
were  hoarse. 

On  board  the  Clyde  were  Jack  Diamond  and  Harry 
Rattleton.  When  Merriwell  was  lifted  to  the  deck  he 
found  himself  clasped  in  Harry's  arms,  and  the  dear 
fellow  laughed  and  cried  as  he  hugged  his  roommate 
to  his  breast. 

"I  never  dought  you'd  threw  it — I  mean  I  never 
thought  you'd  do  it!"  cried  Harry,  brokenly.  "I 
thought  that  hand  would  knock  you  out  sure.  How 
could  you  do  it,  Merry,  old  boy?  It  must  have  been 


After  the  Boat  Race.  219 

awful !  I  saw  you  keel  over  when  the  line  was  crossed, 
but  you  never  havered  a  ware — wavered  a  hair  till  the 
race  was  over." 

Frank  smiled  a  bit. 

"A  fellow  can  do  almost  anything  if  he  sets  his  de- 
termination on  it,"  he  said.  "But  I  came  near  not 
having  the  opportunity  to  try." 

"How  was  that?" 

"Collingwood  found  out  about  my  hand.  I  am 
afraid  you  said  something  about  it,  Harry." 

"Not  a  word,  save  to  Diamond,  and  not  to  him  till 
after  the  race  began." 

"Well,  Coll  found  it  out  some  way,  and  he  came 
near  laying  me  off  for  Flemming,  who  was  on  hand." 

"And  now  I  understand  a  few  things  I  heard  this 
morning,"  broke  in  Diamond.  "Emery  and  Parker 
were  offering  to  bet  that  Flemming  would  row  to- 
day." 

"How  much  did  you  fake  'em  tor — I  mean  take  'em 
for?"  cried  Harry. 

"I  didn't  know  but  some  of  the  men  had  given  out 
or  something,  so  I  did  not  take  them  at  all.  I  did  not 


22O  After  the  Boat  Race. 

imagine  for  a  moment  that  they  thought  Flemming 
was  going  to  row  in  Merry's  place." 

Collingwood  came  up.  He  was  bundled  from  his 
ears  to  his  heels.  Merriwell  was  in  a  sweater  and  coat. 

"How's  your  hand,  old  man?"  asked  Bob,  his  eyes 
gleaming. 

"Oh,  it  is  giving  me  a  jolly  time!"  grinned  Frank, 
grimly.  "It  isn't  doing  a  thing." 

"Mr.  Merriwell,"  said  Collingwood,  earnestly,  "I 
want  to  tell  you  frankly  that  to-day  you  made  the 
greatest  display  of  pure  grit  that  it  has  ever  been  my 
fortune  to  witness.  I  did  not  believe  it  possible 
you  could  hold  out  through  the  race  with  that  hand, 
and  I  meant  to  lay  you  off  for  Flemming,  although 
I  regretted  doing  so,  as  he  has  not  been  working  with 
us  of  late,  and  I  felt  that  the  change  would  weaken  the 
crew.  When  you  told  me  square  and  straight  that  it 
would  be  no  fault  of  yours  if  the  race  were  lost,  I  de- 
cided to  keep  you.  After  that  I  felt  that  I  was  making 
an  error,  but  it  was  too  late  to  change.  Now  I  know 
it  was  no  error,  and  I  wish  to  say  that  I  am  sure  you 
aided  materially  by  your  splendid  work  to  win." 

Others  of  the  crew  came  up.     Merriwell  was  sur- 


After  the  Boat  Race.  221 

rounded  by  friends  and  admirers.  Diamond  whis- 
pered in  his  ear : 

"You  should  be  happy,  old  man,  for  you  have  tri- 
umphed over  your  enemies,  and  the  story  of  your 
heroic  work  will  be  known  to  all  Yale  by  Monday." 

Then  Collingwood  led  Frank  below  for  a  rub  down. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE     YALE      SPIRIT. 

At  the  boathouse  there  was  a  scene  of  riotous  jolli- 
fication. It  was  impossible  to  exclude  the  overjoyed 
friends  of  the  crew.  They  crowded  in  and  expressed 
their  unbounded  delight  in  almost  every  imaginable 
manner. 

There  was  a  popping  of  corks,  and  "fizz"  began  to 
flow  freely.  Now  that  the  great  race  was  over,  the 
crew  were  no  longer  in  training,  and  they  were  al- 
lowed to  drink  as  much  of  the  wine  as  they  liked.  It 
was  forced  upon  them  from  all  sides. 

Merriwell  was  almost  mobbed  by  the  fellows  who 
were  determined  that  he  should  drink  champagne  with 
them. 

"You  can't  refuse  now,  old  man!"  shouted  Charlie 
Creighton.  "I  saw  it  all,  and  no  one  suspected  there 
was  anything  the  matter  with  you.  Just  to  think  that 
you  rowed  the  race  with  a  felon  on  your  hand!  It  is 
marvelous!  And  I  won  a  cool  five  hundred  on  Old 


The  Yale  Spirit.  223 

Eli !  Whoop !  If  you  refuse  to  take  a  drink  of  cham- 
pagne with  me  I'll  call  you  out  and  shoot  you  through 
the  liver  pad!" 

He  was  wildly  waving  a  bottle  of  Mumm's  about 
his  head  as  he  made  this  excited  speech. 

But  Merriwell  did  refuse,  and  he  did  it  with  a  firm- 
ness that  showed  them  all  that  he  could  not  be  induced 
to  drink. 

"Queer  chap,  that  Merriwell,"  commented  Charlie 
Creighton,  addressing  his  chum,  Paul  Hamilton. 
"Never  knew  him  very  well,  but  I've  seen  enough  of 
him  to  know  he's  the  clean  white  stuff  even  if  he  is  a 
temperance  crank." 

"In  the  year  and  a  half  that  he  has  been  here,"  said 
Hamilton,  "he  has  made  a  greater  record  in  athletics 
than  any  other  man  ever  made  in  twice  that  time.  And 
think  of  his  rowing  the  race  to-day  with  that  hand, 
and  then  fainting  the  moment  he  knew  the  line  was 
crossed  and  Yale  had  won !  I  tell  you,  Creighton,  that 
fellow  is  all  sand — every  bit  of  him." 

"That's  what  he  is,"  nodded  Creighton.  "He  is 
running  over  with  the  true  Yale  spirit.  I  tell  you,  my 


224  The  Yale  Spirit. 

boy,  Old  Yale  bears  mighty  men!  Come,  let's  kill 
this  bottle  of  fizz,  which  I  got  off  the  ice  expressly 
for  Merriwell,  confound  him!" 

Then  they  lost  little  time  in  opening  the  bottle  and 
swallowing  its  sparkling  contents. 

Bob  Collingwood  was  overwhelmed  with  congratu- 
lations. He  said  very  little  before  the  crowd,  but  to 
a  particular  friend  he  declared : 

"It  is  one  of  the  marvels  of  the  year  that  we  won 
to-day.  Harvard  outrowed  us  for  fully  three-quarters 
of  the  course,  and  she  would  have  finished  in  the  lead 
if  her  crew  had  been  as  stocky  as  ours.  Their  stroke 
is  easier  on  a  man  than  ours." 

"Then  you  acknowledge  at  last  that  the  Oxford 
stroke  is  superior  to  the  American?"  eagerly  ques- 
tioned  the  friend. 

"I  have  acknowledged  nothing  yet,  but  I  fear  I'll 
be  forced  to." 

The  jubilant  fellows  were  making  the  boathouse 
ring  with  songs  of  victory.  About  twenty  flushed  lads 
were  roaring : 


The  Yale  Spirit.  225 

"How  can  they  ever  beat  us — 

How  can  they  beat  Old  Yale? 
We  down  'em  when  they  meet  us, 

You  bet  we  never  fail ! 
We've  got  'em  so  they  fear  us 

In  every  contest  fair; 
And  soon  they'll  not  come  near  us, 

Because  they  will  not  dare. 

CHORUS  :       "Then  give  us  a  cheer  for  Old  Eli — 

A  cheer  for  our  gallant  crew; 
She  has  won,  and  she  wins  forever, 
With  her  noble  boys  in  blue. 

"Poor  Harvard  falls  before  us, 

She  is  not  in  the  game; 
So  swell  the  merry  chorus, 

Old  Eli's  won  again ! 
It  was  a  gallant  battle, 

My  boys  who  wear  the  blue ; 
But  you  they  cannot  rattle, 

No  matter  what  they  do." 

There  were  other  songs,  and  in  the  midst  of  all  this 
rejoicing  a  crowd  of  pretty  girls,  accompanied  by 
chaperons,  came  into  the  boathouse. 

Among  them  was  Winnie  Lee,  who  lost  no  time  in 
finding  Frank  and  congratulating  him. 

"I  knew  you  would  win,  Frank — I  knew  you 
would!"  she  exclaimed,  her  bright  eyes  sparkling. 

"Why,  you  are  talking  as  if  I  rowed  the  whole 
race !"  he  said,  laughing  and  blushing. 


226  The  Yale  Spirit. 

"Well,  I'm  sure  they'd  never  won  without  you,"  she 
declared. 

"That's  like  a  girl !  Of  course  Yale  would  have  won 
anyhow!  How  can  they  beat  us?" 

At  this  moment  Collingwood  came  up,  accompanied 
by  a  gentleman  who  carried  a  case  in  his  hand. 

"Here,  Merry,  old  boy,"  cried  the  captain  of  the 
crew,  "I've  brought  a  doctor  to  look  after  that  hand 
of  yours." 

"What  is  the  matter  with  your  hand?"  asked  Win- 
nie, anxiously. 

"Oh,  nothing  much,"  assured  Frank,  carelessly. 

"Nothing  much,  only  there  is  a  bad  felon  on  it," 
said  Collingwood. 

"A  felon?  And  you  rowed  with  a  felon  on  your 
hand?  Oh,  Frank!" 

Winnie  looked  at  him  with  added  admiration  show- 
ing in  her  eyes. 

"That's  what  he  did,"  nodded  Collingwood.  "It 
was  the  greatest  display  of  grit  I've  ever  seen.  Do 
you  wonder  he  flopped  over  in  a  dead  faint  when  we 
crossed  the  line  at  the  finish  ?" 

The  doctor  looked  at  Frank's  hand,  which  was  now 


The  Yale  Spirit.  227 

badly  inflamed.  After  a  thorough  examination  the 
physician  glanced  up  at  Frank  and  observed : 

"If  you  were  able  to  row  with  this  hand,  I  rather 
think  you'd  endure  burning  at  the  stake  by  a  band  of 
Indians  without  uttering  a  murmur!" 

"You  dear  fellow!"  cried  Winnie,  with  girlish  en- 
thusiasm ;  "I  feel  just  like  giving  you  a  good  hug !" 

Then  Frank  blushed  more  than  ever. 

The  doctor  opened  his  case  and  proceeded  to  dress 
Merriwell's  hand. 

While  the  physician  was  thus  employed  Frank  was 
somewhat  surprised  to  observe  at  a  little  distance  the 
same  man  who  had  offered  him  a  drink  of  brandy  as 
he  was  recovering  from  his  swoon  at  the  close  of  the 
race. 

This  man  was  watching  the  boy  in  a  strange  man- 
ner, but  the  moment  he  saw  he  was  observed  he  quickly 
turned  away. 

Frank's  curiosity  was  aroused. 

"I  wonder  who  he  is  and  what  he  wants  here?" 
thought  the  boy.  "How  did  he  get  in  here,  anyway? 
He  seems  to  take  a  remarkable  interest  in  me,  and  I 
can't  say  that  I  like  it" 


228  The  Yale  Spirit. 

The  man  walked  away  and  mingled  with  the  throng. 

In  a  short  time  Frank's  hand  was  cared  for,  and 
the  doctor  gave  directions  for  future  treatment  of  the 
felon. 

"It  is  bound  to  trouble  you  for  some  time,  and  you 
will  find  it  very  painful,"  he  said.  "After  what  you 
have  done  to-day,  I  doubt  if  you  sleep  much  to-night." 

"I  don't  care  if  I  do  not  sleep  for  a  week  so  long  as 
Yale  won !"  declared  the  boy. 

"You  have  the  true  Yale  spirit,"  said  the  doctor,  ap- 
provingly. "Yale  men  carry  that  unconquerable  spirit 
out  into  the  world,  and  that  is  why  Old  Eli  turns  out 
so  many  successful  men  in  all  walks  of  life.  I  think 
there  is  no  fear  as  to  your  future,  my  boy." 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Merriwell,  simply. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

SPURNING     A     BRIBE. 

"I  would  like  to  speak  with  you." 

Frank  felt  a  touch  on  his  shoulder,  and  the  words 
sounded  in  his  ear.  He  turned  quickly  and  found 
himself  face  to  face  with  the  mysterious  stranger. 

It  happened  that  at  that  moment  they  were  alone, 
nearly  all  the  throng  having  gathered  about  three  fel- 
lows who,  with  banjo,  mandolin  and  zither,  were 
making  some  lively  music. 

"What  do  you  want?"  asked  Frank,  rather  sus- 
piciously. 

The  man  beckoned  for  him  to  come  aside. 

"I  have  something  I  wish  to  say  to  you,  and  I  do 
not  care  to  be  overheard  by  others,"  he  declared. 

"Well,  I  wonder  what  sort  of  a  snap  this  is?" 
thought  Merriwell. 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then  curiosity  to  know 
what  the  stranger  had  to  say  overcame  him,  and  he 
followed  the  man  to  a  corner  of  the  room. 


230  Spurning  a  Bribe. 

The  stranger  was  very  mysterious  in  his  manner. 

"You  are  a  likely  sort  of  youngster,"  he  said,  in  a 
rather  noncommittal  way. 

"Is  that  what  you  wish  to  tell  me?"  asked  Frank, 
sharply. 

"Steady,  young  colt!  Don't  be  in  too  much  of  a 
hurry.  It  doesn't  pay  to  be  in  a  hurry — none  what- 
ever." 

Frank's  impatience  increased.  He  did  not  like  the 
stranger's  manner,  for  there  was  something  crafty 
and  insinuating  about  it. 

"If  any  one  were  watching  us,  he'd  be  sure  to  think 
we  were  putting  up  some  sort  of  a  crooked  game," 
thought  Merriwell. 

"My  time  is  valuable/'  he  said  aloud. 

"Then  you  can't  make  more  out  of  it  than  you  can 
by  spending  it  gabbling  with  the  crowd." 

The  man's  manner  was  offensive,  but  Frank's  cu- 
riosity caused  him  to  hold  himself  in  check  and  listen 
to  what  the  stranger  should  say. 

"You  are  interested  in  other  sports  besides  rowing, 
I  reckon?"  said  the  unknown,  inquiringly. 

"Yes." 


Spurning  a  Bribe.  231 

"Baseball?" 

"Yes." 

"I  have  heard  that  you  pitch  on  the  'varsity  nine." 

"That  is  right." 

The  man  assumed  a  more  cautious  air  than  ever, 
and  lowered  his  voice  still  more. 

"I  allow  that  the  man  who  pitches  can  throw  a 
game,  if  he  wants  to?" 

Frank's  dislike  for  the  stranger  increased  rapidly. 

"He  can  throw  a  game  if  he  is  crooked  and  dirty 
enough  to  do  such  a  mean  thing!"  came  with  spirit 
from  the  lad. 

"That  is  putting  it  a  heap  rough,"  deprecatingly 
declared  the  man.  "Every  galoot  is  out  for  the  dust. 
It  is  the  way  of  the  old  world,  as  you  will  find  before 
you  have  hoofed  it  much  farther  along  the  trail  of 
life." 

"Well,  what  are  you  driving  at?" 

"Yale  won  the  race  to-day,  and  I  reckon  she's  got 
glory  enough  to  last  her  a  while." 

"Go  on." 

"The  last  ball  game  of  the  series  between  Yale  and 
Harvard  comes  off  next  week?" 


232  Spurning  a  Bribe. 

"It  does." 

"Yale  has  won  one,  and  Harvard  one." 

"That  is  right." 

"Yale  stands  a  right  good  chance  of  winning  the  de- 
ciding game?" 

"She  is  pretty  sure  of  winning." 

"And  I  have  a  pot  of  dust  on  Harvard.  I  can  get 
odds  that  Yale  will  win,  so  I  can  stake  more  money." 

Frank  fancied  that  he  saw  the  stranger's  game,  and 
he  felt  his  anger  rising  rapidly;  but,  with  a  great  ef- 
fort, he  held  himself  in  control,  and  pretended  that  he 
did  not  understand. 

The  boy  looked  the  man  over  from  head  to  heels. 
He  was  making  a  study  of  the  unknown.  Already 
he  had  decided  by  the  man's  appearance  and  language 
that  he  was  a  Westerner,  or  wished  to  be  considered 
such.  Frank  was  not  absolutely  certain  that  the  fellow 
was  not  masquerading  as  a  man  from  the  West. 

As  Merriwell  remained  silent  after  the  stranger's 
last  statement,  he  went  on: 

"If  there  is  any  way  of  knowing  as  how  Harvard 
will  win,  I  can  stake  my  rocks  on  her,  and  pull  off  a 
good  thing." 


Spurning  a  Bribe.  233 

Still  Frank  was  silent. 

"You  can  see  that  plain  enough,  can't  you,  young- 
ster?" demanded  the  man,  seeming  to  grow  impatient 
and  restless  before  the  lad's  steady,  piercing  gaze. 

"Any  one  should  be  able  to  see  that,"  was  the  cold 
answer. 

"Then  all  I've  got  to  do  in  order  to  make  a  stake  is 
to  fix  it  so  that  Harvard  is  dead  sure  of  winning." 

"How  can  you  fix  it?" 

"I  don't  see  but  one  way." 

"How  is  that?" 

"Make  it  worth  something  to  the  Yale  team  to 
throw  the  game  to  Harvard.  I  can  afford  to  do  that,  I 
reckon;  but  I've  got  to  find  the  right  man  to  do  the 
trick." 

Frank's  jaws  seemed  to  grow  square  and  hard,  and 
there  was  a  dangerous  fire  in  his  eyes.  The  stranger 
did  not  appear  to  discern  this,  however,  for  he  went  on : 

"It  rather  strikes  me  that  the  pitcher  has  the  best 
chance  to  do  the  little  turn  I  want  done,  and  that's  why 
I've  come  to  you.  Now,  don't  go  off  half-cocked! 
Hold  hard,  and  hear  me  chirp.  Every  young  fellow  at 
college  needs  money,  and  they  need  a  right  good  bit 


234  Spurning  a  Bribe. 

of  it,  too.  I  don't  allow  that  you  are  any  exception. 
Now,  I  reckon  I  can  show  you  how  you  can  make  a 
smart  bit  of  a  pile  and  do  it  dead  easy.  Nobody  but 
you  and  me  will  ever  know  you  did  it  at  all,  and  there 
isn't  any  danger  that  we'll  preach  about  it — none  what- 
ever." 

"Make  a  square  statement  as  to  what  you  want," 
commanded  Frank,  finding  it  difficult  to  keep  his  voice 
from  quivering,  and  feeling  that  his  cheeks  were  burn- 
ing with  the  angry  blood  that  had  surged  into  them. 

"That's  what  I'll  do,  youngster.  If  you  will  pitch 
that  game  so  Harvard  will  win,  I'll  give  you  a  thou- 
sand dollars  in  cold  cash.  Now  I  reckon  you  under- 
stand me." 

"I  think  I  do,"  came  icily  from  Frank.  "You  want 
me  to  sell  the  game  for  a  thousand  dollars !  You  put 
a  small  price  on  my  honor,  sir !" 

"A  small  price!  You  talk  as  if  a  thousand  were 
nothing!  Hang  me  if  I  ever  saw  a  youngster  of  your 
caliber!  Perhaps  you  think  I'm  fooling?  Perhaps 
you  think  I  won't  pay  ?  Look  here !  I'll  make  it  two 
thousand  dollars,  and  I'll  give  you  a  thousand  in  ad- 
vance. That  is  a  square  deal,  as  you  must  allow." 


Spurning  a  Bribe.  235 

Then  he  took  a  huge  roll  of  bank  notes  from  his 
pocket.  Some  were  new  bills,  while  some  were  worn 
and  soiled.  He  rapidly  counted  off  a  thousand  dollars 
in  ten,  twenty,  fifty  and  one  hundred  dollar  bills.  This 
money  he  thrust  into  Merri well's  hands,  saying: 

"There  you  have  it,  and  that  binds  the  bargain  be- 
tween us.  I'll  give  you  the  other  thousand  directly 
Harvard  wins  and  I  collect  my  wagers.  I'm  a  man  of 
my  word.  I  reckon  it  is  settled?" 

Frank  looked  at  the  money,  making  sure  it  was  gen- 
uine. He  quickly  satisfied  himself  on  that  point.  It 
was  all  right. 

Never  before  had  such  a  bribe  been  offered  Merri- 
well,  and,  for  some  seconds,  he  stood  with  the  money  in 
his  unbandaged  hand,  feeling  somewhat  dazed  and 
doubtful. 

"Put  it  out  of  sight !"  whispered  the  stranger.  "Don't 
let  'em  see  you  have  it.  Give  me  your  promise  that 
you  will  throw  the  game  to  Harvard." 

"I  shall  not  pitch  that  game,"  said  Frank. 

"No?"      . 

"No,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 


236  Spurning  a  Bribe. 

"My  hand  will  not  be  in  condition,  as  you  should 
know.  True  it  is  my  left  hand,  but  I'll  not  be  able  to 
bat  with  it,  even  if  I  could  pitch." 

"But  you  would  throw  the  game  if  you  could  pitch?" 

"No!"  cried  Merriwell,  fiercely,  letting  his  outraged 
indignation  flame  forth.  "What  do  you  take  me  for? 
I  am  no  sneak  and  traitor,  and  not  for  ten  thousand 
dollars — not  for  a  hundred  thousand  dollars — not  to 
save  my  very  life  would  I  do  such  a  dastardly  thing! 
You  have  made  a  mistake  in  your  man!  Take  back 
your  dirty  money!  I  would  not  touch  a  dollar  of  it 
for  the  world!  It  would  contaminate  me!" 

Then  he  flung  the  roll  of  bills  straight  into  the  face 
of  the  astonished  man. 

As  the  man  stooped  to  pick  up  the  money,  which 
had  fallen  at  his  feet,  Frank  caught  him  by  the  col- 
lar with  his  well  hand,  yanked  him  up,  and  started  him 
on  a  run  for  an  open  window. 

Clinging  to  the  money,  the  stranger  uttered  a  pro- 
test at  such  rude  treatment,  but  he  was  unable  to  turn 
about  or  break  away,  although  he  tried  ta  do  so. 

Headlong  through  the  window  Frank  pitched  the 
fellow,  giving  him  a  powerful  kick  to  help  him  along. 


Spurning  a  Bribe.  237 

There  was  a  cry  of  pain  and  rage,  and  the  man  dis- 
appeared. 

This  act  of  Frank's  had  been  noted  by  the  others 
within  the  boathouse,  and  it  created  no  little  won- 
der and  excitement. 

Harry  Rattleton  came  running  up,  spluttering: 

"Hello,  Frank!  mut's  the  whatter — I  mean  what's 
the  matter?" 

"Oh,  nothing  in  particular,"  answered  Merriwell, 
quietly.  "I  simply  fired  a  scoundrel,  that's  all." 

"What  was  he  up  to,  old  man  ?"  demanded  Bob  Col- 
lingwood,  in  a  tone  that  indicated  that  he  was  sorry 
not  to  have  taken  a  hand  in  the  little  fracas.  "Did  he 
try  to  do  you  ?" 

"No ;  but  he  is  trying  to  do  Yale." 

"How  is  that?" 

Frank  explained,  briefly  telling  of  the  bribe  offered 
by  the  mysterious  stranger. 

A  circle  of  lads  had  gathered  about  Merriwell,  and 
they  listened  with  rising  anger  to  his  words.  Cries 
of  astonishment  and  rage  broke  from  their  lips  when 
Frank  told  of  the  truly  astonishing  bribe  which  the 
unknown  had  offered. 


238  Spurning  a  Bribe. 

"My  only  regret,"  concluded  Frank,  "was  that  I 
did  not  have  two  good  hands  with  which  to  handle  the 
rascal." 

"And  my  regret  is  that  I  was  not  there  to  handle 
him  for  you!"  cried  Jack  Diamond. 

"I  wonder  how  the  fellow  got  in  here?"  exclaimed 
Collingwood.  "I'll  have  to  inquire  into  that." 

"He  can't  be  far  away,"  cried  one  of  the  angry  lads. 
"Let's  get  out  and  nab  him !" 

"Come  on !  come  on !"  was  the  general  cry,  and  there 
was  a  rush  for  the  door. 

But  the  unknown  had  not  lingered  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  boathouse.  He  was  not  found,  which  made  it 
plain  that  he  had  taken  to  his  heels  as  soon  as  he 
landed  outside  the  window. 

"Too  bad!"  growled  Collingwood.  "A  good  soak 
in  the  river  is  what  he'd  got,  if  we'd  caught  him." 


CHAPTER  XXL 

ON   THE  SPECIAL   TRAIN. 

Some  of  the  lads  felt  like  staying  in  New  London 
and  making  a  night  of  it,  but  this  was  strictly  against 
rules,  and  those  who  did  so  took  a  desperate  chance 
of  getting  into  trouble  by  it. 

After  the  race  there  was  a  general  rush  for  the  trains, 
and  those  bound  west  over  the  N.  Y.,  N.  H.  &  H.  were 
crowded. 

Later  on  there  was  a  special  train  for  the  Yale  crew 
and  their  friends.  As  this  train  was  not  exclusive  and 
it  was  generally  known  that  it  would  be  run,  large 
numbers  of  students  waited  for  it,  and  it  was  quite  as 
crowded  as  the  trains  which  had  preceded  it. 

The  car  containing  the  victorious  crew  was  a  scene 
of  wild  merrymaking.  The  eight  muscular  lads  who 
had  pulled  off  another  victory  for  Old  Eli  were  gath- 
ered in  the  middle  of  the  car  and  surrounded  by  ad- 
miring friends,  who  cheered  and  sang  and  smashed 


240  On  the  Special  Train. 

one  another's  hats,  and  played  the  very  Old  Nick  with 
one  another. 

Beer,  wine  and  whiskey  had  been  brought  on  board 
the  train,  and  it  was  urged  upon  the  crew.  Danny 
Griswold  was  in  his  glory.  About  half  the  time  he  was 
perched  upon  the  shoulders  of  the  crowd,  and  it  was 
observable  that  he  did  not  refuse  anything  that  was 
offered  him  in  the  way  of  a  liquid.  Still,  for  all  that 
he  drank  so  much  and  mixed  his  drinks,  he  did  not 
seem  to  get  any  worse  off  than  he  had  been  when 
the  train  started  from  New  London. 

Charlie  Creighton  climbed  upon  the  backs  of  two 
seats  and  made  a  speech. 

"Hark,  ye  noble  sons  of  Old  Eli !"  he  began,  with  a 
spread-eagle  gesture  that  came  near  causing  him  to 
lose  his  balance  and  fall  off  headlong.  "This  is  the 
great  day  when  we  can  get  up  on  our  hind  legs  and 
make  the  welkin  ring  with  war  whoops  of  victory. 
To-day  we  stand  with  one  foot  on  Princeton's  neck 
and  the  heel  of  the  other  foot  gouging  into  Harvard's 
:^ack.  They  have  bitten  the  dust  before  us,  oh,  mighty 
warriors  in  blue !  They  have  fallen  like  autumn  leaves 
before  a  gale.  We  have  carried  our  colors  on  to  vie- 


On  the  Special  Train.  241 

tory  in  many  a  mad  scrimmage,  but  never  have  we 
done  a  better  job  than  we  did  this  day.  During  the 
greater  part  of  the  race  it  looked  as  if  Harvard  would 
take  our  scalps.  We  who  watched  the  awful  struggle 
felt  our  blood  turn  cold  with  fear.  Then,  when  we 
looked  upon  the  calm  face  of  our  captain  [cheers], 
we  took  heart  and  hoped.  Like  clockwork  he  was 
handling  his  men,  and  his  calm  confidence  gave  them 
heart.  They  saw  he  did  not  fear  the  result,  and  when 
he  began  to  drive  them  for  the  final  spurt  every  one 
of  that  noble  band  responded  like  the  greatest  of  heroes. 
[More  cheers.]  Then  it  was  that  Yale  began  to  crowd 
Harvard.  Then  it  was  that  the  Harvard  crew  showed 
how  the  pressure  was  telling  on  them.  Then  it  was 
that  the  backers  of  Old  Eli  who  were  watching  the 
struggle  became  confident  that  we  were  still  in  it  and 
would  pull  off  the  race  after  all.  Then  Old  Yale  crept 
into  the  lead,  the  spurt  being  admirably  timed,  so  that 
our  boat  crossed  the  line  just  in  time  to  make  Old  Eli 
again  the  winner.  And  to  whom  is  honor  due  for  this  ? 
You  know!" 

"Collingwood !    Collingwood !"  roared  the  jubilant 
crowd  in  the  car.    "Hurrah  for  dear  old  Bob!" 


242  On  the  Special  Train. 

Then  they  cheered  and  cheered,  and  then  they  called 
for  a  speech  from  "dear  old  Bob." 

Collingwood  was  lifted  to  his  feet.  He  protested 
that  he  could  not  make  a  speech,  but  they  would  not 
be  satisfied  till  he  had  said  something,  and  so  he  cried : 

"Well,  boys,  we  did  them — and  we  did  them  good !" 

This  was  better  than  a  long  speech,  and  it  produced 
the  most  unbounded  enthusiasm. 

When  the  excitement  had  abated  somewhat,  Colling- 
wood arose  again,  and  motioned  for  silence.  In  a  mo- 
ment he  was  receiving  the  full  attention  of  every  one. 

"Every  man  on  the  crew  deserves  praise,"  began 
Bob. 

"Hooray  for  the  croll  hew — I  mean  the  whole 
crew!"  shouted  Harry  Rattleton,  smashing  his  new 
straw  hat  over  Bandy  Robinson's  head. 

"But  there  is  one  who  deserves  especial  commen- 
dation," Collingwood  added. 

There  was  a  breathless  silence,  and  all  eyes  were 
turned  on  Frank  Merriwell,  who  flushed  beneath  this 
sudden  attention. 

"There  was  one  man  on  the  crew  who  was  not  in 
condition  to  row  in  the  race  to-day,  and  I  came  very 


On  the  Special  Train.  243 

near  letting  him  out.  Now  I  am  glad  I  did  not,  for, 
although  he  had  a  bad  felon  on  his  left  hand,  there  was 
no  man  of  the  crew  who  pulled  a  stiff er  stroke  or 
showed  more  lasting  powers  till  the  finish  was  reached. 
He  fainted  then,  it  is  true,  but  it  was  because  of  the 
frightful  pain  in  his  hand  and  arm,  and  I  wish  you  to 
remember  that  he  did  not  faint  till  the  victory  was 
won." 

"Merriwell!    'Rah!  'rah!  'rah!" 

Not  even  Bob  Collingwood  himself  received  a  greater 
ovation.  Frank  was  seized,  he  was  lifted  aloft,  he  was 
perched  on  the  shoulders  of  his  friends,  and  then  there 
was  a  general  howl  for  a  speech. 

Frank  felt  himself  thrill  from  his  hair  to  his  toes; 
his  eyes  were  dimmed  with  moisture,  even  though  he 
laughed.  In  his  bosom  there  was  a  choking  sensation 
of  gratitude  and  love  for  his  comrades  and  the  ad- 
miring throng  around  him.  He  forgot  that  he  had 
a  single  foe  at  Yale — that  he  had  a  foe  in  all  the  wide 
world. 

"Boys,"  he  said,  somewhat  brokenly,  "I  did  my  best 
for  dear  old  Yale— that  is  all." 

That  was  all  he  said.    It  was  enough.    It  seemed 


244  On  the  Special  Train. 

to  touch  a  chord  in  every  breast,  and  there  was  a  ring 
.of  patriotism  in  the  cheering  that  followed. 

"Here's  to  good  Old  Yale — drink  it  down ! 
Here's  to  good  Old  Vale — drink  it  down! 
Here's  to  good  Old  Yale, 
She's  so  hearty  and  so  hale — 
Drink  it  down!  drink  it  down!  down!  down!" 

It  seemed  that  every  person  in  the  car  joined  in  sing- 
ing this  song.  The  enthusiasm  was  running  higher  and 
higher.  In  every  heart  the  Yale  spirit  grew  deeper 
and  stronger  during  that  ride  from  New  London  to 
New  Haven.  The  students  who  were  there  never  for- 
got that  scene — never  forgot  how  they  thrilled  with 
love  for  Old  Yale.  The  hardships  and  struggles  of 
college  days  were  forgotten;  the  triumphs  and  joys 
alone  were  remembered. 

But  with  it  all  it  is  certain  that  the  result  of  the  race 
had  disappointed  no  Harvard  man  more  than  it  did 
Fred  Flemming. 

At  the  last  moment  he  had  been  overjoyed  to  learn 
that  Merriwell  had  a  bad  felon  on  one  of  his  hands, 
which,  it  seemed,  must  debar  him  from  rowing  in  the 
-great  race. 

Flemming  had  kept  himself  in  condition  as  far  as 


On  the  Special  Train.  245 

possible,  and  he  lost  no  time  to  let  Collingwood  know 
that  he  could  be  called  on  in  case  of  emergency. 

That  he  would  be  called  on  seemed  almost  certain, 
for  he  was  notified  to  be  on  hand  at  Yale's  quarters 
before  the  time  set  for  the  race  to  begin. 

He  had  been  on  hand,  ready  to  strip  off  in  a  moment, 
and  had  seen  Collingwood  talking  earnestly  with  Mer- 
riwell.  Then,  to  his  inexpressible  astonishment,  he 
had  been  told  that  Merriwell  would  row  after  all. 

From  that  moment  Flemming  hoped  and  prayed  that 
Yale  would  lose  the  race.  He  would  have  given  almost 
anything  in  his  power  to  give  had  Frank  Merriwell 
been  unable  to  row  to  the  finish. 

But  Merriwell  had  finished  the  race,  and  Yale  had 
won.  Flemming' s  friends,  who  had  bet  that  he  would 
row  in  the  race,  had  lost  money,  and  they  were  sore 
also. 

It  was  bitter  gall  for  Flemming  and  Tom  Thornton 
•>  pretend  to  rejoice  over  Yale's  victory,  but  they 
dared  not  do  otherwise.  It  happened  that  they  waited 
till  the  special  train  left  for  New  Haven,  and  they  were 
on  that  train  and  in  the  car  which  carried  the  victori- 
ous crew. 


246  On  the  Special  Train. 

Occasionally  they  cheered  with  the  others,  to  keep 
up  appearances;  but,  for  the  most  part,  they  remained 
seated  in  a  corner  at  one  end  of  the  car  and  talked 
in  low  tones. 

"How  was  it  that  Collingwood  happened  to  retain 
the  fellow  for  all  of  his  hand?"  asked  Thornton,  re- 
ferring to  Merriwell. 

"Ask  me  something  easy!"  exclaimed  Flemming. 
"I  am  sure  he  intended  to  fire  the  fellow,  but  I  think 
Merriwell  begged  to  be  given  a  show,  and  Colling- 
wood did  not  have  the  nerve  to  chuck  him  off." 

"Collingwood  must  be  soft !" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know.  I  think  that  cad  Merriwell  must 
be  a  hypnotist  by  the  way  he  gets  around  some  fellows." 

"I  don't  want  to  have  anything  further  to  do  with 
him." 

"Oh,  you've  lost  your  nerve  since  Merriwell  and 
Griswold  put  up  that  girl  job  on  you,  and  Diamond 
drew  you  into  a  bogus  duel." 

"That  was  enough  to  make  any  fellow  lose  his 
nerve." 

"Rats!" 


On  the  Special  Train.  247 

"You  may  say  'rats,'  but  you  don't  know  how  you 
would  have  felt  if  you  had  been  in  my  place.  Just  as 
the  word  was  given  to  fire  and  I  pulled  trigger,  Gris- 
wold,  dressed  as  a  girl,  rushed  between  us.  I  fired, 
and,  with  a  frightful  shriek,  he  fell.  Then  I  ran  for- 
ward and  looked  at  him.  The  moonlight  made  him 
look  deathly  white,  and  I  felt  sure  I  had  shot  him. 
I'll  never  forget  the  sickening  sensation  that  came  over 
me  at  that  moment !  The  hangman's  noose  seemed  to 
dangle  before  my  eyes.  I  dropped  the  pistol  and 
rushed  away  to  my  room.  I  think  I  was  stunned,  for 
Homer  found  me  sitting  on  a  chair  and  staring  blankly 
at  the  wall  about  an  hour  afterward.  Then  he  said 
the  girl  had  not  been  shot  at  all,  but  had  fainted.  Say, 
Flem,  my  boy,  it  is  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  tell 
the  feeling  of  thankfulness  and  relief  that  rushed  over 
me.  I  felt  just  like  getting  right  down  on  my  knees 
and  thanking  Providence,  but  I  didn't,  for  Tad  Hor- 
ner  was  watching  me  all  the  time,  and  I  saw  the 
laughing  devil  in  his  eyes.  Then,  within  two  days,  I 
found  myself  the  guy  of  the  whole  college,  and,  finally, 
it  all  came  out  that  'Grace  Darling*  was  Danny  Gris- 
wold  in  his  theatrical  rig,  and  I  had  been  played  for 


248  On  the  Special  Train. 

a  blooming  guy  by  Merriwell  and  Diamond,  assisted 
to  a  certain  extent  by  Horner,  my  own  roommate/' 

"And  the  only  decent  thing  you  ever  did  about  it  was 
to  quit  Horner  cold.  You've  never  seemed  to  have 
sand  enough  to  make  an  effort  to  get  back  at  Merri- 
well." 

"I  decided  that  Merriwell  is  a  bad  man  to  monkey 
with." 

"That's  rot!  It's  his  reputation  that  frightens  you. 
I'm  going  to  watch  my  chance  to  get  even  with  him." 

"So  am  I,  young  man !"  whispered  a  voice  in  Flem- 
ming's  ear. 

Fred  whirled  swiftly,  and  saw  close  at  his  shoulder 
a  rather  rough-appearing,  smooth-faced  man,  who 
wore  a  wide-brimmed  hat,  and  was  weather-tanned,  as 
if  by  much  exposure. 

"Eh?"  exclaimed  the  college  lad.    "Who  are  you?" 

"One  who  has  a  good  reason  to  dislike  that  fly  chap, 
Mr.  Frank  Merriwell,"  was  his  answer. 

Flemming  was  suspicious. 

"Why  should  you  hate  Merriwell?"  he  asked. 

"Because  he  kicked  me,"  was  the  fierce  reply. 


On  the  Special  Train.  249 

"He  kicked  you?  Then  you  are  the  man  he  fired 
out  of  the  boathouse?  I  heard  about  that  little  affair." 

"I  am  the  man." 

"You  should  have  known  better  than  to  try  to  bribe 
Merriwell  to  throw  any  sort  of  game  or  race  to  Har- 
vard. That  chap  is  so  honest  that  he  has  wings  sprout- 
ing under  his  clothes.  He  said  you  pushed  a  thousand 
dollars  at  him?" 

"I  did— I  put  it  into  his  hand." 

"And  he  flung  it  into  your  face?" 

"Yes,  curse  him!  Then  he  threw  me  out  of  the 
window !" 

"Well,  you  do  seem  to  have  a  reason  for  disliking 
him.  What  would  you  do  to  him  if  you  got  a  good 
chance  ?" 

"Ask  me  what  I  wouldn't  do!  All  I  want  is  the 
chance !" 

"Can  you  keep  your  mouth  closed?" 

"You  bet  your  dust!    I  never  peach!" 

"Then  you  may  be  just  the  kind  of  a  man  I  am 
looking  for.  I  want  somebody  with  nerve.  The  trou- 
ble with  the  fellows  in  college  who  hate  Merriwell  is 


2$o  On  the  Special  Train. 

that  they  do  not  dare  butt  up  against  him.  They  are 
afraid  of  him." 

"Well,  I'm  not  afraid  of  any  man  living,  let  alone 
a  mere  boy.  He's  nothing  but  a  tenderfoot !  Waugh !" 

"Hear  them  shouting  over  him !"  muttered  Thornton. 
"See!  They  have  lifted  him  on  their  shoulders!  One 
would  think  he  alone  won  the  race  to-day!" 

Then  Frank  was  heard  to  make  the  brief  speech 
which  elicited  such  hearty  applause. 

"It  is  sickening!"  growled  Flemming,  pale  with 
jealous  rage. 

"It  is,"  nodded  the  stranger.  "It  makes  me  want 
to  give  him  back  the  kick  he  gave  me!" 

"If  you  stick  to  me,  I  promise  you  that  you  shall 
have  a  good  opportunity,"  said  Flemming. 

"You  may  bet  your  rocks  that  I'll  tie  to  you,  pard," 
assured  the  unknown.  "I'll  help  you  to  get  square,  and 
you  can  help  me.  Frank  Merriwell  will  have  to  keep 
his  eyes  open  if  he  dodges  us  both." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE    FIGHT    ON    THE   TRAIN. 

It  happened  that,  as  he  was  perched  on  the  shoul- 
ders of  his  friends  and  admirers,  Frank  Merriwell  saw 
Flemming  and  Thornton  in  the  further  end  of  the  car. 

Merriwell  would  not  have  given  his  enemies  more 
than  a  passing  glance,  but  it  occurred  that  he  saw  and 
recognized  the  man  who  was  talking  to  Flemming. 

"It  is  the  scoundrel  who  tried  to  bribe  me!"  mut- 
tered Frank,  angrily.  "And  he  is  with  Flemming  and 
Thornton!  I  fancy  I  smell  a  mouse." 

Then  he  forced  his  friends  to  put  him  down,  and, 
the  moment  he  was  on  his  feet,  he  hastened  along  the 
aisle  toward  the  end  of  the  car,  having  called  Diamond 
to  follow  him. 

The  plotters  saw  Frank  coming,  and  the  expression 
on  his  face  told  them  that  there  was  a  storm  brewing. 

"By  Jove !"  fluttered  Thornton,  in  alarm ;  "he  looks 
as  if  he  means  to  thump  somebody!" 


252  The  Fight  on  the  Train. 

Although  he  did  not  show  it,  Flemming  was  not 
a  little  alarmed  by  Merriwell's  angry  appearance. 

Several  of  the  students  gathered  about  the  crew  saw 
there  was  something  in  the  wind,  and  they  followed 
Merriwell  and  Diamond  down  the  crowded  aisle. 

Halting  within  a  short  distance  of  his  enemies, 
Frank  pointed  straight  at  the  stranger  and  cried: 

"There  he  is!  Take  a  good  look  at  him,  boys! 
That  is  the  creature  who  tried  to  bribe  me  to  throw 
the  ball  game  to  Harvard !" 

His  words  rang  through  the  car,  and  were  heard 
by  every  one.  The  uproar  and  excitement  that  fol- 
lowed was  quite  unexpected  by  Frank. 

A  wild  shout  of  anger  broke  from  the  college  lads, 
and  there  was  a  scramble  for  that  end  of  the  car. 

"Mob  the  wretch !" 

"Thump  him!" 

"Choke  him!" 

"Don't  let  him  get  away!" 

These  cries  broke  from  the  crowd  of  lads,  who  strove 
in  mad  haste  to  get  at  the  stranger. 

"Great  Christopher !"  gasped  Tom  Thornton,  in  ter- 


The  Fight  on  the  Train.  253 

ror.  "I'm  going  to  get  out  of  this!  It's  altogether 
too  hot  for  me !" 

Then  he  tried  to  slip  away. 

Flemming  did  not  know  what  to  do.  The  manner 
of  the  angry  lads  was  alarming,  and  he  saw  no  reason 
why  he  should  defend  a  man  who  was  quite  unknown 
to  him. 

But  the  stranger  did  not  wait  to  be  defended.  With, 
a  wild  shout,  that  was  like  the  war  whoop  of  an  In- 
dian, he  leaped  up  and  lunged  straight  into  the  crowd,, 
striking  out  right  and  left.  •  ... ; 

In  less  than  ten  seconds  a  general  fight  was  taking 
place  in  that  end  of  the  car.  Jack  Diamond,  who  had 
a  grudge  against  Tom  Thornton,  collared  Tom  as  he 
was  trying  to  slip  away. 

"Hold  on!"  cried  the  Virginian.  "You  can't  play 
the  sneak  in  that  way!  I  saw  you  talking  with  that 
scoundrel !  Did  you  and  Flemming  set  him  on  to  bribe 
Merriwell?" 

"I  don't  know  anything  about  it!"  protested  Tom, 
struggling.  "Let  go,  Diamond !" 

"Well,  not  in  a  hurry!"  returned  Jack.  "I  don't 
know  where  the  money  came  from,  but  I  believe  you 


254  The  Fight  on  the  Train. 

and  Flemming  tried  to  ruin  Merriwell  by  bribing  him 
to  throw  a  game  and  then  exposing  him.  If  that  was 
the  trick,  you  fooled  yourselves.  Frank  Merriwell  is 
not  that  kind  of  a  fellow !" 

With  a  fierce  exclamation,  Thornton  struck  savagely 
at  Jack's  face,  but  Diamond  dodged  the  blow. 

"Oh,  you  will,  will  you !"  he  cried,  and  then  he  gave 
Thornton  a  terrible  thump  between  the  eyes. 

In  another  moment  they  were  at  it  fiercely. 

Although  Flemming  was  a  big  fellow  with  a  reputa- 
tion as  a  bullyt  Harry  Rattleton  had  not  hesitated  to 
lay  hands  on  him. 

"You're  a  chine  fap — I  mean  a  fine  chap !"  shouted 
Harry.  "So  you  are  concerned  in  this  attempted  brib- 
ery!" 

"Get  out!"  snarled  Flemming.  "I'll  break  your 
nose!" 

"Break  it !"  invited  Rattleton.  "I'll  try  to  do  a  little 
something  while  you  are  about  it!" 

Flemming  waited  to  say  not  another  word,  but, 
quick  as  a  flash,  he  did  strike  Harry  a  heavy  blow  on 
the  jaw.  Rattleton  was  staggered,  but  he  held  on  to 


The  Fight  on  the  Train.  255 

Flemming.  A  moment  later  both  were  swept  down 
by  the  rush  of  the  crowd. 

It  was  something  of  a  blind  fight,  and  it  waged  with 
great  fierceness,  although  in  an  aimless  manner,  for 
some  moments.  Several  of  the  windows  in  the  car 
were  broken. 

Bob  Collingwood  waded  into  the  midst  of  the  strug- 
gling mass  of  human  beings,  scattering  them  with  his 
powerful  arms,  and  crying: 

"Here,  stop  this  senseless  scrapping!  Where  is  the 
fellow  who  tried  to  bribe  Merriwell  ?" 

Where,  indeed?  All  looked  around  for  him,  but  he 
was  gone.  In  some  manner  he  had  made  his  escape 
in  the  midst  of  the  tumult. 

"He  must  be  on  the  train !"  cried  Frank.  "He  can't 
escape  from  the  train  till  it  stops!  Here — I  have  his 
coat !  He  left  it  in  my  hands  when  the  crowd  tore  us 
apart." 

Merriwell  held  up  the  garment. 

"He  must  be  in  the  car  back  of  this !"  declared  Col- 
lingwood. "I  want  to  see  him — I  want  to  get  a  fair 
look  at  his  face." 

"I'd  like  to  do  something  else  to  his  face!"  shouted 


256  The  Fight  on  the  Train. 

another  student.     "Think  of  any  one  offering  a  Yale 
pitcher  money  to  throw  a  game  to  Harvard !" 

This  brought  a  mad  howl  from  the  angry  students. 

Rattleton  and  Flemming  had  been  torn  apart  during 
the  struggle,  and  Thornton  and  Diamond  were  sepa^ 
rated,  but  not  until  Jack  had  thumped  the  fellow  he  dis 
likedj  and  done  it  several  times. 

Both  Flemming  and  Thornton  were  forgotten.  The 
excited  students  rushed  out  by  the  open  door,  and 
crowded  into  the  rear  car,  which  was  the  only  one  on 
the  train  to  which  the  unknown  man  could  have  es- 
caped. 

"Where  is  he?"  was  the  hoarse  shout  that  went  up, 
as  the  angry  boys  packed  into  the  car. 

They  looked  desperate  and  dangerous,  as  if  they 
were  thirsting  for  human  blood. 

At  the  farther  end  of  the  car  a  man  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves crouched  and  muttered : 

"Well,  derned  if  I  expected  to  kick  up  this  sort  of  a 
rumpus !  I've  seen  all  kinds  of  mobs,  but  I  will  allow 
that  this  reminds  me  of  a  regular  Judge  Lynch  crowd, 
and  no  mistake.  Never  judged  a  lot  of  youngsters 


The  Fight  on  the  Train.  257 

would  get  stirred  up  this  way  any  whatever.  They're 
on  a  regular  rampage." 

He  kept  out  of  sight  as  far  as  possible,  feeling  that 
it  was  the  most  "healthy"  thing  to  do. 

"Where  is  he?"  demanded  Collingwood,  who  was 
just  ahead  of  Merriwell — "where  is  the  man  who  be- 
longs to  this  coat  ?  He  must  have  come  in  here!  Did 
a  man  in  his  shirt  sleeves  come  in  here?" 

"Yes,  yes!"  replied  several.  "What  has  he  been 
doing?" 

"Doing!"  roared  "Dear  Old  Bob,"  flushed  with  an- 
ger. "Why,  he  is  the  creature  that  tried  to  bribe  Mer- 
riwell!" 

It  seemed  that  this  piece  of  business  was  generally 
known,  for  Collingwood's  words  produced  a  roar  of 
indignation. 

Down  at  the  rear  end  of  the  car  a  young  man  stood 
up  and  shouted : 

"This  way !     Here  he  is !     He  can't  get  away !" 

Then  it  seemed  that  the  students  all  spotted  their 
game  at  the  same  moment,  and  there  was  a  fierce  scram- 
ble for  that  end  of  the  car. 


2  $8  The  Fight  on  the  Train. 

The  hunted  man  saw  them  coming,  and  a  desperate 
look  settled  on  his  face. 

"I'd  as  lief  fall  into  the  clutches  of  a  whole  tribe  of 
Apache  Indians !"  he  gasped.  "They're  after  my  scalp 
for  sure!" 

He  leaped  to  the  door,  and  tore  it  open. 

"Stop!"  rang  out  the  voice  of  Frank  Merriwell. 
"You  cannot  escape,  for  you  will  be  killed  if  you  leap 
from  the  train !" 

The  man  hesitated  one  moment.  He  saw  the  col- 
lege lads  rushing  down  the  aisle,  and  then,  although 
the  train  was  making  a  speed  of  at  least  forty  miles  an 
hour,  he  descended  the  steps. 

Collingwood  and  Merriwell  came  out  through  the 
open  door.  As  they  reached  the  platform,  they  saw 
the  man  clinging  in  the  darkness  at  the  foot  of  the  steps. 
He  was  in  a  crouching  position,  his  hands  clasping  the 
iron  holds.  In  the  gloom  his  face  seemed  fully  as 
white  as  the  sleeves  of  his  shirt,  which  fluttered  in  the 
breeze. 

"For  Heaven's  sake,  don't  jump!"  cried  Frank. 

Collingwood  tried  to  grasp  the  man  by  the  arm.    As 


The  Fight  on  the  Train.  259 

he  did  so,  the  mysterious  man  dropped  from  the  steps, 
instantly  disappearing  in  the  darkness. 

"He's  gone!"  gasped  Frank,  horrified. 

"Yes,  he  is  gone!"  said  Collingwood,  hoarsely. 
"That's  the  end  of  hin^  for  surely  he  was  killed  when 
he  rtruck  the  ground  I" 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SEEN    AGAIN. 

For  two  days  Frank  scanned  all  the  newspapers  for 
an  account  of  the  finding  of  the  body  of  an  unknown 
man  somewhere  on  the  line  of  the  N.  Y.,  N.  H.  &  H. 
R.  R.,  but  he  looked  in  vain. 

"Well,  that  is  remarkable!"  Merriwell  decided.  "I 
can't  understand  it.  If  that  fellow  escaped,  it  is  a 
miracle.  And  if  he  escaped,  I  believe  I  shall  hear  from 
him  again,"  he  finished. 

The  spring  term  was  drawing  to  a  close.  But  two 
more  events  were  to  transpire  before  the  coming  of  the 
long  summer  vacation.  There  was  the  final  ball  game 
with  Harvard,  and  then  the  great  intercollegiate  ath- 
letic tournament  at  Madison  Square  Garden  in  New 
York — the  latter  affair  to  be  the  great  college  event  of 
the  year. 

Frank  was  entered  for  several  of  the  contests  in  New 
York,  but  his  hand,  although  improving,  would  not  be 
in  condition  to  allow  him  to  play  ball  again  that  season. 


Seen  Again.  261 

As  for  the  coming  vacation,  his  plans  were  not  per- 
fected as  yet.  Some  of  his  friends  were  going  to  Bar 
Harbor,  some  contemplated  spending  the  summer 
quietly  at  home,  some  were  going  abroad  for  a  flying 
tript  and  many  had  expressed  themselves  as  quite  unde- 
cided as  to  the  manner  in  which  they  would  pass  the 
summer  months. 

Frank  had  boldly  proposed  a  bicycle  journey  across 
the  continent,  but  all  his  friends,  with  the  exception  of 
Diamond,  had  considered  the  proposition  a  joke. 

Diamond  grew  enthusiastic  over  it,  urging  Merriwell 
to  carry  out  the  plan,  even  though  but  two  of  them 
should  make  the  jaunt. 

Frank's  plan  embraced  a  party  of  at  least  four — pos- 
sibly more.  What  made  Rattleton  believe  that  Merri- 
well was  joking  was  that  Frank  had  soberly  asked 
Bruce  Browning,  the  reputedly  laziest  man  at  Yale,  to 
make  one  of  the  party. 

Bruce  came  near  fainting  with  horror  at  the  mere 
mention  of  such  a  thing. 

"My  dear  Merriwell !"  he  gasped,  "is  it  possible  that 
you  take  me  for  a  candidate  for  a  lunatic  asylum  ?  Do 
you  think  that  I  am  on  the  verge  of  lapsing  into  com- 


262  Seen  Again. 

plete  idiocy?  Or  are  you  simply  trying  to  have  a  little 
sport  at  my  expense?" 

"Nothing  of  the  sort,  my  dear  fellow,  I  assure  you," 
said  Frank.  "I  am  in  sober  earnest  about  getting  up  a 
party  to  make  the  trip  across  the  continent,  and  I  think 
it  would  be  a  fine  thing  for  you  if  you  were  to  make  one 
of  the  company." 

Bruce  was  reclining  on  a  couch  in  Merriwell's  room 
at  the  time,  lazily  puffing  away  at  a  cigarette.  He  lan- 
guidly reached  out  his  hand  and  felt  for  Frank's  wrist. 

"Permit  me  to  examine  your  pulse,  old  fellow,"  he 
murmured.  "If  you  are  not  trying  to  work  some  kind 
of  a  horse  on  me  you  must  be  in  a  bad  way.  Ah!"  he 
said,  knowingly,  with  his  thumb  and  finger  on  Frank's 
wrist,  "I  thought  so !  Pulse  irregular — flutters  like  an 
old  rag  in  the  wind — flesh  hot  and  dry,  eye  changing 
and  unsteady,  dryness  in  your  throat  and  general  va- 
cancy in  your  stomach.  What  you  need  is  a  tonic — 
and  you  need  it  bad.  You  should  take  whiskey,  it  may 
be  the  only  thing  that  will  save  you  from  an  utter 
breaking  up  of  the  nervous  system  or  premature  death. 
The  premature  death  will  happen  if  you  try  to  jolly  me 
any  more.  I  shall  carry  a  gun  with  me  constantly  here- 


Seen  Again.  263 

after,  and  it  will  not  cost  too  much  of  an  effort  to  point 
it  in  your  direction  and  pull  the  trigger." 

Frank  laughed. 

"I  know  you  are  almost  too  lazy  to  draw  your 
breath,"  he  said,  "and  I  also  know  that  the  best  thing 
that  could  happen  to  you  would  be  just  such  an  expedi- 
tion as  I  have  proposed.  However,  I  suppose  it  is  use- 
less to  waste  my  breath  talking  to  you,  and  so  I  will 
drop  it." 

But  for  all  of  Browning's  refusal  to  be  one  of  the 
party,  Frank  did  not  give  up  the  project  of  a  trip  across 
the  continent  from  ocean  to  ocean  during  the  summer 
vacation. 

But  almost  immediately  other  matters  occupied  his 
attention. 

One  night  he  was  spending  an  evening  in  town  with 
a  jolly  party  of  students.  The  others  were  drinking 
beer  and  ale,  while  Merriwell  took  nothing  but  ginger 
ale  or  bottled  soda. 

As  they  were  leaving  Traeger's,  Frank  caught  a 
glimpse  of  the  face  of  a  man  who  seemed  to  be  waiting 
for  them  to  come  out. 

For  one  moment  Merriwell  stopped  as  if  turned  to 


264  Seen  Again. 

stone,  and  then,  with  a  hoarse  shout  of  recognition,  he 
leaped  after  the  man,  who  had  slipped  away. 

The  others  followed  Frank,  and  they  soon  pursued 
him  around  a  corner,  where  they  found  him  standing 
still  and  staring  about  in  a  disappointed  manner. 

"What  is  it,  old  man  ?"  asked  Paul  Hamilton.  "Why 
did  you  give  that  whoop  and  then  chase  yourself  around 
here  in  such  a  lively  fashion?" 

"It  was  not  myself  I  chased,"  declared  Frank.  "It 
was  quite  another  party,  I  assure  you ;  but  he  has  given 
me  the  slip,  for  I  can  see  nothing  of  him." 

"Who  was  it?" 

"The  man  who  tried  to  bribe  me  to  throw  the  last 
ball  game  to  Harvard!" 

"That  fellow?"  exclaimed  all  the  lads,  excitedly. 
"Are  you  sure?" 

"Dead  sure,"  asserted  Frank,  confidently.  "I  saw 
his  face  fairly  in  the  light  in  front  of  Traeger's  when 
we  came  out." 

"Then  he  was  not  killed  in  the  leap  from  the  train !" 
cried  Diamond.  "How  did  he  escape?" 

"Ask  me  something  easy!"  exclaimed  Frank.     "I 


Seen  Again.  265 

never  expected  to  look  on  that  man's  face  again,  unless 
I  looked  on  it  as  a  corpse." 

"Confound  him!"  exploded  Harry  Rattleton.  "I'd 
like  to  hake  his  break — I  mean  break  his  head !  What 
does  he  want  around  here?" 

Frank  was  silent  There  was  a  grim  look  on  his 
face,  and  it  was  plain  that  he  had  been  not  a  little  dis- 
turbed  by  the  sight  of  the  mysterious  stranger. 

The  boys  turned  toward  college,  discussing  the  queer 
actions  of  the  unknown  as  they  walked  along.  One  or 
two  of  them  fully  believed  the  man  must  be  a  lunatic. 

That  night,  as  Frank  and  Harry  were  preparing  for 
bed,  the  former  declared: 

"That  strange  man  is  about  as  large  a  mystery  as 
I  ever  ran  across.  He  is  beginning  to  be  a  decided 
nuisance." 

"What  do  you  make  of  him,  anyway?" 

"That  he  is  a  Westerner,  or  wishes  to  be  thought 
such.  His  language  betrays  that  And  he  is  the  last 
man  I  could  dream  would  be  staking  enough  money 
on  a  game  of  college  baseball  to  be  able  to  offer  a  bribe 
of  two  thousand  dollars  to  make  sure  that  the  game 
would  result  in  his  favor." 


266  Seen  Again. 

"By  Jove !"  cried  Rattleton ;  "if  any  other  fellow  but 
yourself  had  told  me  that  a  stranger  had  made  them 
such  an  offer  and  had  forked  over  one-half  cash  in  ad- 
vance I  should  have  considered  him  a  looming  byer — 
no,  a  blooming  liar !" 

"And  you  would  not  be  to  blame  for  thinking  so. 
To  me  it  seems  like  a  dream,  but  I  know  it  actually  hap- 
pened." 

"Well,  what  is  he  hanging  around  New  Haven  for  ?" 

"I'll  give  it  up,  unless  he  hopes  to  get  at  Heffiner  or 
Dad  Hicks,  one  of  whom  must  pitch  the  game  at 
Springfield." 

"He'll  get  used  rough  if  he  pushes  his  dirty  dough  at 
either  Heffiner  or  Hicks!"  cried  Rattleton. 

"I  think  so,"  nodded  Frank.  "I  believe  they  are 
loyal  to  dear  old  Yale,  and  nothing  can  buy  their 
honor." 

"Most  Yale  men  are.  There  may  be  one  or  two 
sneaks  who  would  sell  out,  as  there  are  black  sheep  in 
every  flock.  I  don't  believe  Flemming  would  be  above 
such  a  trick." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know !  I  do  not  wish  to  think  that  bad 
of  Flemming.  I  know  he  is  my  enemy,  and  I  believe 


Seen  Again.  267 

he  hates  me  so  he  would  do  almost  anything  to  injure 
me,  but  I  do  not  wish  to  think  that  a  fellow  like  him 
even  would  stoop  to  such  a  dastardly  trick  as  to  betray 

% 

old  Yale." 

"You  always  think  every  fellow  is  white  till  you  are 
convinced  to  the  contrary  beyond  the  shadow  of  a 
doubt." 

"I  had  rather  believe  all  men  honest  and  deceive  my- 
self in  that  manner  than  to  suspect  everybody  and  thus 
think  that  one  honest  man  was  a  rogue." 

Harry  regarded  Frank  in  a  queer  manner,  slowly 
shaking  his  head,  but  saying  nothing  more.  For  all 
that  they  had  been  friends  and  roommates  for  a  year 
and  a  half,  Rattleton  was  forced  to  confess  to  him- 
self that  there  still  remained  many  things  about  Mer- 
riwell  that  he  could  not  understand. 

That  Frank  was  shrewd  Harry  knew,  and  yet  Mer- 
riwell  sometimes  seemed  to  deliberately  deceive  him- 
self by  thinking  that  certain  fellows  were  honest  when 
he  should  have  known  better.  It  seemed  the  hardest 
thing  in  the  world  for  Frank  to  be  convinced  that 
any  fellow  was  thoroughly  bad,  even  though  that 


268  Seen  Again. 

person  might  be  an  enemy  who  had  endeavored  in 
numerous  ways  to  do  him  an  injury. 

"Merriwell  seems  to  come  out  all  right  in  every- 
thing," thought  Rattleton;  "but  it  would  not  be  the 
luck  of  any  other  fellow  who  dared  take  the  chances 
he  does." 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

TWO     WARNINGS. 

The  morning  after  the  evening  when  Frank  saw 
the  mysterious  stranger  in  front  of  Traeger's  he  re- 
ceived a  warning  note  through  the  mail.  It  read  as 
follows : 

"Be  constantly  on  your  guard.  Your  enemies  are 
plotting  to  do  you  serious  injury.  I  shall  do  what 
I  can  to  foil  them,  but  you  had  better  watch  out." 

It  was  unsigned,  and  the  handwriting  was  cramped 
and  awkward,  as  if  the  person  who  wrote  it  was  not 
accustomed  to  handle  a  pen. 

"Well,  I  wonder  what  sort  of  a  game  this  is!" 
cried  Frank,  in  disgust.  "It  is  a  fake,  pure  and  sim- 
ple!" 

Rattleton  was  at  his  side. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Harry. 

"Read  that!"  invited  Frank,  thrusting  the  anony- 
mous warning  into  the  ready  hands  of  his  friend. 

Harry  glanced  it  over,  and  then  whistled  softly. 


270  Two  Warnings. 

"Rot!"  he  cried.  "Anybody  can  see  that's  lot  on 
the  nevel — I  mean  not  on  the  level." 

"But  what  sort  of  a  game  is  it?"  questioned  Frank, 
in  perplexity.  "If  it  was  an  appointment  to  meet 
somebody  somewhere,  or  even  a  warning  to  stay 
away  from  some  place,  I  could  see  something  in  it; 
but  the  mere  statement  that  enemies  are  plotting  to 
injure  me  doesn't  indicate  much  in  this  case." 

"It  seems  to  indicate  that  somebody  fakes  you  for 
a  tool — no,  takes  you  for  a  fool!"  spluttered  Rat- 
tleton. 

Frank's  face  grew  scornful. 

"That  somebody  may  find  out  that  it  is  not  en- 
tirely healthy  to  try  crooked  games  with  me,"  he 
grimly  said.  "I  believe  I  see  through  the  trick." 

"What  is  it,  then?" 

"This  bogus  warning  will  be  followed  by  another. 
The  other  will  go  a  little  further  than  this.  Then 
will  come  the  third,  which  will  be  the  one  intended 
to  draw  me  into  some  sort  of  a  trap.  Oh,  the  game 
is  too  thin!" 

Harry  looked  into  his  roommate's  face,  and  saw 
that  Frank  Merriwell  was  aroused  at  last. 


Two  Warnings.  271 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Rattleton. 

"I  am  going  to  have  a  few  words  with  Fred  Flem- 
ming  at  the  first  opportunity.  I  have  been  easy  with 
Flemming,  for  I  could  not  believe  the  fellow  all  bad, 
even  though  he  had  tried  to  injure  me,  but,  if  he  is 
going  to  hire  a  ruffian  like  this  unknown  man  to  try 
to  work  my  ruin,  I  shall  draw  the  lines  on  Mr.  Flem- 
ming. He  is  rich,  but  that  will  not  save  him." 

"They  say  he  has  money  to  burn." 

"I  don't  care  if  he  is  a  Monte  Cristo.  He  can- 
not ride  over  me  with  all  his  money,  and  I  do  not  be- 
lieve that  a  scoundrel  will  be  tolerated  at  Yale  after 
his  villainy  is  exposed,  even  though  he  may  be  rich 
and  have  influential  parents  and  connections." 

"What  do  you  think  the  game  is?" 

"As  to  that  I  am  more  or  less  at  sea;  but  I  believe 
that  the  bribe  which  was  offered  me  to  throw  the  ball 
game  to  Harvard  was  a  trap  meant  to  work  my  un- 
doing." 

"Flemming  must  have  known  your  hand  would 
not  permit  you  to  play  in  that  game,  so  he  could 
not  have  been  in  that  piece  of  business." 

"My  dear  boy,  I  do  not  fancy  I  was  expected  to 


272  Two  Warnings. 

pitch  that  game.  It  was  thought  that  I  would  keep 
the  money.  That  money  was  marked.  This  man 
would  have  gone  forth  and  blowed  that  he  had  bribed 
me.  He  would  have  told  what  marked  money  he 
had  given  me.  I  should  have  been  cornered — per- 
haps arrested — then  searched.  You  see  what  that 
would  have  meant.  The  marked  money  would  have 
been  found  on  my  person.  It  would  have  been  ex- 
actly as  the  stranger  had  described  it.  It  is  certain 
that  somebody  was  watching  and  saw  him  give  me 
the  money.  That  person  would  have  testified  against 
me.  Then  Frank  Merriwell's  college  career  would 
have  come  to  a  sudden  termination.  In  some  ways  it 
was  a  bungling  plot,  and  in  others  it  was  crafty 
enough." 

"But  a  cool  thousand — that  was  an  awful  roll  to 
push  at  a  fellow!" 

"It  was  a  bold  and  desperate  stroke,  and  the  fact 
that  such  a  sum  was  offered  shows  that  the  one  who 
put  up  the  job  knew  I  could  not  be  bought  with  a 
petty  amount.  He  did  not  know  that  it  made  no  dif- 
ference whether  it  was  one  dollar  or  one  million — I 


Two  Warnings.  273 

would  not  sell  my  honor  and  betray  dear  old  Yale  for 
any  sum!" 

"You  have  other  enemies  besides  Flemming." 

"Yes— Thornton." 

"He  doesn't  count,  for  he  lacks  nerve." 

"Whom  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Harris  does  not  love  you." 

"It  will  be  a  long  time  before  Sport  Harris  will 
venture  to  lift  a  hand  against  me  again,  for  the  mem- 
ory of  the  fate  of  his  comrade,  Hartwick,  is  too  vivid 
before  him.  Hartwick  brought  disgrace  and  ruin  on 
himself  by  trying  to  injure  me.  He  was  forced  to 
leave  college,  and  then,  when  he  came  back  to  New 
Haven  and  put  up  that  race-track  job  on  me,  he  fin- 
ished his  own  downfall  by  robbing  his  father  in  order 
that  he  might  have  a  sum  of  money  to  stake  against 
me,  feeling  sure  I  must  lose.  Directly  after  that  race 
he  was  arrested." 

"What  was  done  about  that  matter?  Was  he  sent 
to  prison?" 

"No ;  his  father  would  not  press  the  case ;  but  I  have 
heard  that  the  old  man's  heart  is  broken  by  Hart- 
wick's  actions.  The  worthless  rascal  was  the  apple 


274  Two  Warnings. 

of  the  old  man's  eye.  His  father  had  expected  to  see 
him  go  through  college  and  graduate  with  flying  colors. 
The  disgrace  has  bowed  the  father  with  grief,  and  it 
is  said  he  cannot  live  long." 

"Then  Hartwick  will  get  all  his  money." 

"No.  The  old  man  has  made  a  will  that  cuts  Evan 
off  with  a  very  small  sum.  The  rest  of  the  money  and 
estate  goes  to  other  relatives  and  to  charity." 

"And  Evan  Hartwick  brought  all  this  on  him- 
self by  his  dastardly  attempts  to  injure  you.  It  should 
be  a  warning  to  others." 

"It  is  an  old  saying  that  'the  way  of  the  transgressor 
is  hard,'  but  it  seems  to  take  human  beings  a  long 
time  to  become  convinced  that  it  is  absolutely  true." 

Frank  kept  his  eyes  open,  and  waited  for  the  second 
warning,  which  he  felt  sure  would  come. 

He  was  not  mistaken,  for  it  came  near  night. 

A  boy  appeared  at  Frank's  door,  and  handed  over 
a  sealed  envelope,  which  he  explained  he  had  received 
from  a  man  with  a  heavy  beard.  He  said  he  had 
been  paid  a  quarter  of  a  dollar  to  deliver  it. 

Frank  tore  it  open  and  read: 

"You  will  be  invited  to  go  to  the  theatre  to-night. 


Two  Warnings.  275 

Do  not  go.  Your  enemies  will  be  on  the  watch  for 
you." 

"Oh.  I  knew  it  was  coming!"  cried  Frank,  scorn- 
fully. "It  is  a  flimsy  trick !  It  actually  disgusts  me !" 

Harry  was  out,  and  Merriwell  was  alone. 

Later  Harry  came  in,  accompanied  by  Diamond, 
Browning,  Griswold  and  Creighton. 

"I  say,  old  man,"  cried  Charlie  Creighton,  address- 
ing Frank,  "we  have  something  on  for  to-night,  and 
we  want  you  to  take  a  hand." 

"You  may  take  a  few  rotten  eggs  or  decayed  vege- 
tables with  that  hand,  if  you  like,"  grinned  Griswold. 

Frank  remembered  the  second  warning.  Of  the 
party  Creighton  was  the  only  fellow  he  did  not  know 
very  well,  and,  if  there  was  an  enemy  among  them, 
Creighton  must  be  the  man. 

Frank  resolved  to  show  no  suspicion. 

"What's  up?"  he  asked. 

"To-night,"  cried  Griswold,  dramatically,  "the  cur- 
tain will  go  up  on  one  of  the  greatest  tragedies  ever 
enacted  on  any  stage — nit!" 

"Hush !"  whispered  Creighton,  mysteriously.  "Whis- 
per it  softly.  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin'  is  in  town,  with 


276  Two  Warnings. 

two  Little  Evas  two  Marks,  three  real  Siberian  blood- 
hounds, bred  in  New  Jersey,  and  a  jackass." 

"The  jackass  is  the  manager  of  the  company," 
grinned  Griswold. 

"I  presume  you  have  heard  of  that  immortal  play, 
'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin,'  Mr.  Merriwell  ?"  questioned 
Creighton. 

"Methinks  I  have,"  assured  Frank. 

"  'Methinks'  is  good,"  nodded  Creighton.  "It  has 
a  fat  sound." 

"Eh?"  grunted  Browning,  who  already  had  de- 
posited his  corpulent  body  on  the  couch.  "Did  any- 
body speak  to  me?" 

"Ah,  Mr.  Browning,"  said  Creighton,  "I  think  you 
said  as  we  were  coming  along  that  you  have  had  the 
pleasure  of  seeing  'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin'  ?" 

"Yes,  I  said  so." 

"Then  permit  me  to  inquire  if  you  have  ever  seen 
Ten  Nights  in  a  Barroom'?" 

"No,"  grunted  Bruce;  "but  I  have  seen  ten  bar- 
rooms in  a  night." 

"Here,  hold  up!"  cried  Griswold,  promptly.    "That 


Two  Warnings.  277 

belongs  to  me,  and  I  have  used  it  on  everybody  I  could 
hit  with  it." 

"Never  mind,"  murmured  Browning.  "It  is  a  good 
thing,  so  we'll  have  to  move  it  along." 

"Seriously,"  said  Diamond,  "there  is  a  crummy 
'Uncle  Tom's  Cabin'  company  at  a  cheap  theatre  in 
town,  and  Creighton  has  purchased  a  box.  He  wants 
us  to  go  along." 

"That's  the  idea,"  acknowledged  Charlie.  "All  the 
fellows  are  onto  it,  and  there  will  be  two  or  three 
hundred  Yale  boys  there.  We  won't  do  a  thing  to 
the  hamfatters!" 

Frank  smiled.  He  saw  that  it  would  be  an  oppor- 
tunity for  any  amount  of  sport  he  was  sure,  and  the 
mere  thought  of  it  made  him  eager  to  go. 

But  he  remembered  the  warning.  It  was  most  re- 
markable that  the  invitation  to  the  theatre  had  fol- 
lowed so  closely  after  the  receipt  of  the  note  from  the 
unknown. 

"Of  course  you'll  go,  old  fellow?"  cried  Creighton, 
who  saw  that  Merriwell  was  hesitating. 

"Of  course  he  will!"  cried  Rattleton.  "Merry  is 
always  in  for  a  little  racket  of  this  sort." 


278  Two  Warnings. 

"He  is  always  foremost  in  anything  of  the  kind," 
said  Diamond. 

"That  is  why  I  want  him  in  my  box,"  smiled 
Creighton.  "Oh,  we  won't  do  a  thing  in  that  box — 
not  a  thing!  I  have  ordered  plenty  of  fizz  on  ice,  and 
— oh,  but  you  do  not  drink  fizz,  do  you,  Merriwell?" 

"No,"  said  Frank;  "but  I  am  no  temperance  crank, 
and  I  do  not  make  myself  offensive  by  trying  to  con- 
vince everybody  else  that  men  who  do  drink  are  fools. 
College  lads  should  have  brains  enough  to  know  what 
they  want  and  what  they  do  not  want,  and  it  is  im- 
pertinent for  any  fellow  to  go  around  trying  to  make 
Good  Templars  of  men  who  enjoy  a  glass  of  beer  or 
wine  now  and  then." 

Creighton  impulsively  grasped  Frank's  hand. 

"Merriwell,"  he  cried,  "by  example  you  are  the 
best  possible  temperance  lecture,  and  you  will  make 
more  converts  by  keeping  still  than  by  preaching." 

"There  may  be  something  in  that,"  admitted  Frank. 
"I  knew  a  parson  once  on  a  time  who  never  men- 
tioned religion  unless  some  one  broached  the  sub- 
jec^  except  when  he  was  in  the  pulpit.  His  name 
was  Lamfear.  He  did  not  go  around  with  his  face 


Two  Warnings.  279 

drawn  down,  asking  everybody  if  they  had  received 
salvation  and  loved  the  Lord.  I  admired  him  more 
than  any  parson  I  ever  knew,  and  I  used  to  go  to  his 
church  Sundays  to  hear  him  preach.  He  was  a  good 
man,  although  he  seemed  to  enjoy  seeing  boys  play 
baseball  and  skate  and  coast  and  fly  kites.  I  remem- 
ber that  one  time  he  put  on  skates  himself,  and  took  a 
spin  on  the  river  with  the  boys  and  girls.  Now  I  know 
that  man  did  more  good  by  keeping  still  about  religion 
than  he  could  have  done  had  he  dinned  it  into  the 
ears  of  everybody  he  met.  Every  one  saw  he  was  a 
good  man,  for  his  daily  life  told  that.  All  the  young 
folks  admired  him  as  much  as  they  disliked  another 
old  parson  who  was  forever  talking  about  the  wicked- 
ness of  the  world  and  the  goodness  of  the  Lord,  and 
collaring  persons  everywhere  to  ask  them  why  they 
did  not  attend  church  oftener.  Good  old  Parson  Lam- 
fear!  May  his  tribe  increase!" 

"Well,"  said  Griswold,  "we'll  let  Parson  Lamfear 
rest.  What  we  want  to  know  is  if  you  are  with  us 
to-night." 

"To  go,  or  not  to  go  ?  that  is  the  burning  question," 


280  Two  Warnings. 

murmured  Browning,  as,  still  stretched  on  his  back,  he 
struck  a  match,  lighted  a  cigarette,  dropped  part  of 
the  match  on  his  chin,  and  gave  a  howl  of  pain. 

Frank  suddenly  made  up  his  mind. 

"I'll  go,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE   THEATRE    PARTY. 

It  was  a  gay  party  that  left  South  Middle  that  even- 
ing and  started  for  the  theatre.  Merriwell  had  not 
said  a  word  to  Rattleton  concerning  the  receipt  of  the 
second  warning.  A  spirit  of  sheer  reckless  defiance 
led  him  to  accept  the  invitation  to  the  theatre,  even 
though  he  had  not  wished  to  spend  his  time  that  even- 
ing in  such  a  manner. 

"This  may  be  a  jolly,"  he  told  himself;  "if  I  were 
to  stay  away  the  fellows  would  have  a  horse  on  me 
sure." 

Creighton  had  a  beautiful  tenor  voice,  and  as  they 
started  out  beneath  the  elms,  he  sang: 

"I  shot  an  arrow  into  the  air, 
It  fell  to  earth — I  know  not  where " 

Danny  Griswold  seemed  to  take  a  fiendish  delight 
in  giving  a  humorous  twist  to  anything  sentimental, 
and  so  he  interrupted  with: 

"The  next  day  a  man  came  around 
And  sold  "me  dead  dog  at  a  dollar  a  pound." 


282  The  Theatre  Party. 

"If  that  were  original  I  wouldn't  mind,"  said  Creigh- 
ton;  "but  you  got  it  from  some  star  vaudeville  per- 
formance, you  little  runt." 

"That's  where  I  get  all  my  gags,"  frankly  confessed 
Griswold.  "I  store  them  up  for  uset  and  they  come 
in  handy  some  time." 

"Some  time,  when  you  spring  a  stale  joke,  I  shall 
be  led  to  assassinate  you,"  declared  Bruce  Browning. 

"Impossible!"  cried  Griswold.  "That  would  be  a 
crime." 

"Well,  what's  the  odds?" 

"You  are  too  fat  to  commit  a  crime." 

"How  is  that?" 

"It  is  difficult  for  fat  persons  to  stoop  to  anything 
low,  you  know." 

."You  seem  to  find  considerable  amusement  because 
I  am  somewhat  overweight,"  said  Bruce,  with  at- 
tempted severity." 

"Not  at  all,"  chirped  Danny.  "Some  men  are  well 
enough  in  their  weight,  but  this  doesn't  apply  to  coal 
dealers." 

"Say,  Griswold,"  called  Rattleton,  "what's  the  aver- 


The  Theatre  Party.  283 

age  fate  for  a  wool — no,  I  mean  the  average  weight 
for  a  fool?" 

"A  simple  ton,"  replied  the  little  fellow,  quick  as  a 
flash. 

Frank  clapped  Danny  on  the  back. 

"Good  boy!"  he  exclaimed,  laughing.  "Rattleton 
didn't  get  ahead  of  you  that  time." 

"It  is  hard  for  anybody  to  get  ahead  of  me,"  de- 
clared Griswold.  "I  am  really  a  lively  man  in  a  foot- 
race, for  my  father  is  a  watchmaker,  and  he  has  given 
me  instructions  in  the  business." 

"I  fuf-fuf-fuf,fail  to  see  huh-huh-how  that  applies," 
said  Joe  Gamp,  a  lad  with  a  serious  impediment  in 
his  speech. 

"Why,  you  see  I  have  learned  how  to  make  good 
time,"  chuckled  Danny. 

Gamp  roared  with  laughter.  He  was  a  big,  raw- 
boned,  hulking  fellow  from  New  Hampshire,  and  his 
laugh  was  like  the  braying  of  a  mule.  Creighton  had 
invited  Gamp  to  the  theatre  for  the  amusement  the 
country  lad  would  provide. 

"He'll  break  the  performers  all  up  if  he  ever  gets 


284  The  Theatre  Party. 

started  laughing,"  said  Charlie  to  Merriwell.  "When 
he  gets  going  in  good  style  nothing  will  stop  him." 

There  was  something  about  the  country  boy  that 
Merriwell  liked.  Frank  quickly  decided  that  Joe  was 
a  big-hearted,  honest  felloWj  such  a  blunder-heels  that 
he  was  certain  to  provoke  ridicule,  and  yet  thoroughly 
worthy  and  deserving. 

In  laughing,  Gamp  opened  his  mouth  to  the  widest 
extent.  He  suddenly  closed  it,  and  clapped  his  hand 
to  his  jaw. 

"Jee-ru-sa-lem !"  he  gasped;  "there  gug-gug-gug- 
goes  that  old  aching  tut-tut-tooth  of  mine!  I  was 
careless  to  let  the  night  air  gug-gug-get  into  it." 

"Why  don't  you  have  it  pulled  out?"  asked  Dia- 
mond. 

"I'm  going  to  have  it  pup-pup-pup-pulled  and  all  the 
rest  of  my  'tut-'tut-'tarnel  teeth  just  as  soon  as  I  can 
afford  the  money  to  bub-buy  a  new  set,"  declared 
Gamp,  honestly. 

"Why  spend  your  money  in  such  a  foolish  way?" 
said  Griswold,  with  apparent  seriousness.  "Save  the 
dentist's  bill.  I  know  a  dog  that  will  insert  a  full  set 
of  teeth  free  of  charge." 


The  Theatre  Party.  285 

Open  flew  Gamp's  mouth  again,  and  his  braying 
laugh  caused  a  passing  pedestrian  to  dodge  so  sud- 
denly that  he  jumped  from  under  his  own  hat. 

"Say!"  exclaimed  Charlie  Creighton,  getting  hold 
of  Griswold;  "save  those  till  we  get  to  the  theatre. 
Then  you  can  set  him  going,  and  we'll  have  sport." 

"Can't  save  them,"  declared  Danny.  "They  have 
to  come  when  the  opportunity  offers." 

And  so  they  went  on  their  way  to  the  theatre,  laugh- 
ing and  joking,  singing  snatches  of  college  songs,  and 
having  a  jolly  time  generally. 

Creighton  had  made  no  mistake  in  saying  a  large 
number  of  college  lads  would  be  present.  It  seemed 
that  there  were  at  least  two  hundred  in  the  theatre, 
and  it  was  apparent  that  they  were  there  for  "a 
racket." 

The  moment  Creighton's  party  entered  the  box  a  tall 
young  man  in  the  first  row  of  orchestra  seats  arose 
and  faced  the  house,  soberly  saying : 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,  this  is  a  most  auspicious, 
not  to  say  suspicious,  occasion.  It  is  probable  that 
many  of  you  were  not  aware  that  we  were  to  be  hon- 
ored to-night  by  having  the  privilege  of  witnessing 


286  The  Theatre  Party. 

the  performance  in  company  with  royal  personages, 
but  such  is  the  fact.  The  party  that  has  just  entered 
the  box  on  the  right  is  the  Prince  of  Chow-chow,  who 
is  accompanied  by  the  Duke  of  Dublinstout,  the  Earl  of 
Easy togeta jag,  the  Emperor  of  Buginhishead,  the 
High  Mogul  of  Whooperup,  the  Chief  Pusher  of 
Whangdoodleland  and  the  Great  Muckamuck  of  Ho- 
gansalley.  Gentlemen,  it  is  your  privilege  to  salute 
them." 

Then  every  college  boy  in  the  house  arose  and  bowed 
with  great  gravity  toward  the  box. 

"Well,  this  is  sure  to  be  a  hot  time !"  laughed  Mer- 
riwell,  delighted. 

"You  bet  it  is !"  assured  Charlie  Creighton.  "We'll 
make  Simon  Legree  regret  that  he  is  living." 

An  usher  came  down  the  aisle  and  remonstrated 
with  the  tall  student.  The  tall  student  replied  to  the 
usher  with  exaggerated  politeness,  declaring  that  he 
meant  no  harm,  but  that  he  had  felt  it  his  duty  to  in- 
form the  audience  that  such  distinguished  personages 
were  in  the  box. 

Then  when  the  tall  young  man  sat  down,  as  if  by  a 
prearranged  signal,  there  was  a  wild  outburst  of  ap- 


The  Theatre  Party.  287 

plause,  stamping  of  feet,  whistling  catcalls,  and  so 
forth. 

The  musicians  came  out  and  began  to  put  their  in- 
struments in  tune.  They  composed  an  orchestra  car- 
ried with  the  troupe,  and  were,  as  Rattleton  forcibly 
expressed  it,  "decidedly  on  the  bum." 

Some  of  the  musicians  seemed  to  dread  what  was 
coming,  for  they  looked  pale  and  agitated. 

"They  know  that  some  of  the  over-ripe  vegetables 
and  stale  hen-fruit  which  the  audience  may  toss  at  the 
performers  is  liable  to  fall  short/'  smiled  Merriwell. 

Having  tuned  up  after  a  fashion,  the  orchestra  be- 
gan to  file  away  at  some  sort  of  a  medley. 

Griswold  rolled  his  eyes  and  said: 

"I  am  carried  away  with  the  music,  as  the  monkey 
who  was  perched  on  the  hand-organ  remarked." 

It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty  that  the  assembled 
students  repressed  a  desire  to  uplift  their  voices  and 
drown  the  sounds  which  came  from  the  wretched  or- 
chestra; but  they  felt  that  it  would  not  do  to  alarm 
the  players  by  too  great  a  demonstration,  and  so  the 
only  interruptions  to  the  overture  were  a  few  catcalls. 

At  last  the  curtain  rolled  up,  and  the  play  began. 


288  The  Theatre  Party. 

An  ominous  silence  seemed  to  hang  over  the  audience. 
The  actors  were  nervous  at  first,  but  as  the  silence 
continued  and  offensive  demonstrations  were  not  im- 
mediately made,  they  gained  courage  and  swung  into 
their  parts  with  as  much  enthusiasm  and  ability  as  pos- 
sible. 

It  is  possible  that  the  sight  of  two  or  three  police- 
men at  the  back  of  the  house  gave  the  performers  cour- 
age. The  officers  had  been  called  in  to  overawe  the 
college  lads  in  case  they  became  too  demonstrative. 

At  length,  in  a  very  pathetic  part  of  the  first  act, 
Griswold  leaned  over  to  Joe  Gamp,  and  whispered: 

"It  is  very  touching,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  the  country  boy,  chokingly,  "it  mum- 
mum-mum-makes  me  fuf-fuf-fuf-feel  like  th-th-  thun- 
der!" 

He  nearly  blubbered  outright,  for  he  had  never  seen 
many  plays,  having  found  it  necessary  to  spend  his 
money  with  the  greatest  care,  as  he  was  confined  to  a 
certain  allowance  to  take  him  through  college. 

"And  Uncle  Tom's  Bible,"  said  Danny— "it  re- 
minds me  of  a  conundrum.  How  was  the  ark  pro- 
pelled?" 


The  Theatre  Party.  289 

"Dud-dud-darned  if  I  know." 

"By  a  Noah,  of  course,"  explained  Griswold. 

Gamp  caught  his  breath,  and  then  he  lay  back  and 
roared : 

"Haw!  haw!  haw!     A-haw!  a-haw!  a-haw!" 

This  roar  of  laughter,  coming  as  it  did  at  a  solemn 
and  pathetic  point  in  the  play,  was  most  startling. 
Uncle  Tom  came  near  collapsing  on  the  stage,  and  the 
other  actors  were  so  disturbed  that  they  got  tangled  in 
their  lines. 

The  students  caught  on,  and  there  was  an  immediate 
burst  of  applause  that  swelled  louder  and  louder.  This 
died  away  most  suddenly  and  unexpectedly,  and  Joe 
Gamp  was  heard  to  shout  in  his  endeavor  to  make  Gris- 
wold hear: 

"By  jimmy!  that  was  a  good  one!  A-haw!  a-haw! 
a-haw!  a-haw!" 

The  lad  from  the  country  went  off  into  another 
paroxysm  of  laughter,  pressing  his  hands  to  his  sides, 
and  shutting  his  eyes,  utterly  unconscious  for  the  mo- 
ment of  his  surroundings. 

Of  a  sudden  Joe  remembered  that  he  was  at  the  the- 
atre. His  mouth  came  together  with  a  snap,  his  eyes 


290  The  Theatre  Party. 

flew  open,  and  he  ceased  to  laugh  and  stiffened  up, 
with  a  frightened  look  on  his  face. 

The  change  was  so  ludicrous  that  the  entire  audi- 
ence was  convulsed,  and  the  actors  could  not  help 
laughing. 

From  that  moment  the  play  progressed  under  diffi- 
culties. In  the  scene  where  the  slaves  were  being  sold 
at  auction  some  of  the  students  began  to  pepper  the 
actors  with  pea-shooters,  doing  it  cautiously,  so  that 
they  would  not  be  spotted  in  the  act.  Every  time 
Marks  would  open  his  mouth  to  say  "seventy-five"  he 
would  be  struck  by  one  or  more  peas,  which  were  fired 
with  force  sufficient  to  make  them  sting  like  hornets. 

"Seventy Wow !  Whoop !"  yelled  Marks,  clap- 
ping a  hand  to  the  side  of  his  face,  and  suddenly  dan- 
cing an  original  can-can. 

"Five  hundred,"  cried  Legree. 

"Seventy-fi We-e-e-ow!  Stop  it!  Somebody 

is  shooting  things  at  me!" 

Marks  had  been  spotted  on  the  end  of  his  long  nose, 
to  which  he  was  wildly  clinging  with  both  hands,  as 
he  pranced  around  the  stage. 

"What's  the  matter  ?"  growled  Legree,  in  a  guarded 


The  Theatre  Party.  291 

tone,  unable  to  understand  what  had  happened.  "Have 
you  gone  crazy,  you  fool?  Stand  up  and  bid!" 

Then  he  cried :  "Six  hundred !" 

"Seventy-five Hornets  and  blisters!"  finished 

Marks,  as  he  was  nailed  by  three  or  four  peas.  "I 
can't  stand  this !  It's  too  much !" 

He  bolted  off  the  stage. 

Legree  looked  dismayed,  and  then  he  advanced  to 
the  footlights  and  addressed  the  audience. 

"Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  said,  "I  trust  you  will 
excuse  the  gentleman  who  is  playing  the  part  of  Marks. 
He  has  not  been  well  for  several  days,  and  he  is  some- 
what troubled  with  hallucinations.  Of  course  we 

know  his  troubles  are  all  imaginary,  and Ye-e-e- 

ow!  I'm  shot!" 

A  pea  had  struck  him  squarely  between  the  eyes,  and 
he  started  back  so  suddenly  that  he  sat  down  on  the 
stage  as  if  he  had  been  knocked  off  his  feet. 

"A-haw!  a-haw!  a-haw!"  roared  the  voice  of  Joe 
Gamp,  and  the  audience  joined  in  the  shout  of  laughter. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

TRAPPED. 

There  was  an  uproar  in  the  theatre,  which  the  ush- 
ers and  the  police  were  unable  to  quell  for  some  time. 

The  curtain  was  rung  down,  and  then,  after  a  short 
wait,  the  manager  came  out  and  said  the  show  would 
go  on,  if  the  audience  would  behave.  He  threatened 
to  have  the  persons  who  were  using  the  pea-shooters 
arrested,  and  this  threat  was  greeted  by  hisses  and  cat- 
calls. 

After  a  while,  however,  the  curtain  went  up  once 
more,  and  the  play  proceeded  in  a  tangle  of  "real  Si- 
berian bloodhounds,"  Gumption  Cutes,  Marks,  Topsies, 
Little  Evas,  escaping  slaves,  slave  hunters  and  general 
excitement  and  confusion. 

It  was  plain  that  the  actors  feared  further  trouble, 
and  they  were  rushing  through  their  lines,  eager  to 
get  off  the  stage  as  soon  as  possible. 

The  bloodhounds  were  cheered  by  the  students  and 
peppered  with  peas.  When  Topsy  declared  she  "neb- 


Trapped.  293 

her  was  born,  but  jes'  growed,"  some  one  inquired  the 
name  of  the  fertilizer  used  in  her  rearing.  When  the 
jackass  appeared,  a  solemn  voice  from  some  uncertain 
part  of  the  theatre  called  the  attention  of  the  audience 
to  the  "leading  actor  of  the  colossal  aggregation." 
Little  Eva  was  invited  to  exhibit  her  wings. 

The  college  boys  were  irrepressible,  and  yet  they 
did  not  do  anything  to  absolutely  break  up  the  show, 
although  Joe  Gamp's  haw-haws  came  near  proving 
disastrous  several  times. 

A  policeman  came  down  to  the  box  and  threatened 
to  arrest  Joe,  but  he  was  pacified  by  Creighton,  who 
had  a  decidedly  smooth  way  of  "fixing  things." 

Frank  Merriwell  remained  quiet  until  near  the  end 
of  the  play,  enjoying  the  sport  the  other  fellows  were 
making.  At  last,  however,  he  decided  to  produce 
some  amusement  himself. 

Frank  was  a  very  good  amateur  ventriloquist,  al- 
though he  seldom  practiced  the  art.  Now,  however, 
he  saw  his  opportunity. 

Little  Eva  was  on  her  deathbed,  and  the  mourners 
were  assembled  about.  All  at  once  one  of  the  mourn- 
ers seemed  to  say: 


294  Trapped. 

"This  business  is  on  the  bum." 

Every  one  started  and  stared.  The  actors  were  as- 
tounded, and  the  audience  amused.  Then  the  death 
agony  went  on  until  another  of  the  watchers  by  Eva's 
side  observed : 

"It  makes  me  sick!" 

The  manager  was  heard  to  hiss  from  the  shelter  of 
the  wings: 

"I'll  make  you  sick  when  you  come  off!" 

"Oh,  go  fall  on  yourself,  you  old  cheat!"  the  actor 
seemed  to  fling  back. 

Then  Little  Eva,  in  her  death  agony,  apparently  re- 
marked : 

"Give  it  to  the  old  duffer !  He  owes  me  six  weeks' 
salary,  and  I'll  quit  dying  right  now  if  the  ghost 
doesn't  walk  immediately!" 

This  brought  laughter  and  hearty  applause  from  the 
college  lads. 

When  the  applause  had  subsided  Uncle  Tom  appar- 
ently observed : 

"He  can't  get  ahead  of  me.  I've  put  an  attachment 
on  the  jackass." 

This  was  more  than  the  excitable  manager  could 


Trapped.  295 

stand,  and  he  rushed  onto  the  stage,  shaking  his  fist 
at  Uncle  Tom  and  crying: 

"Confound  you!  I  don't  owe  you  a  cent!  You 
obliged  me  to  pay  up  before  you  would  go  on  to-night !" 

And  then  he  nearly  collapsed  when  he  realized  what 
his  anger  had  led  him  to  do  and  say. 

The  college  lads  arose  from  their  seats  and  cheered. 

Standing  in  the  front  of  the  box,  Charlie  Creighton 
shouted : 

"This  is  the  best  part  of  the  show,  fellows.  Let's 
give  'em  one!  Now — all  together!" 

Then  the  Yale  yell  pealed  forth,  and  Little  Eva  came 
near  dying  in  reality  from  heart  failure. 

This  broke  up  the  show  entirely,  and  the  curtain 
came  down  with  a  rush,  while  the  frightened  orchestra 
made  haste  to  disappear.  From  behind  the  curtain  the 
manager  shouted  that  the  show  was  over,  and  the 
laughing,  tumultuous  students  hurried  out  of  the- 
atre. 

"Well,  Merriwell,"  said  Charlie  Creighton,  "how 
have  you  enjoyed  the  evening?" 

"Immensely,"  laughed  Frank. 

"It  was  a  regular  sus-sus-sus-circus,"  declared  Joe 


296  Trapped. 

Gamp.  "Never  had  so  much  fuf-fuf-fuf-fuf-fun  in 
all  my  bub-born  days !" 

"We  had  them  on  a  string,  like  a  kite,"  murmured 
Bruce  Browning. 

"And  that's  what  made  them  soar/'  chuckled  Gris- 
wold. 

Just  as  the  street  was  reached,  Frank  gave  a  slight 
exclamation,  and  quickly  forced  his  way  through  the 
crowd  toward  a  man  who  was  near  at  hand. 

That  man  was  the  mysterious  stranger. 

The  unknown  seemed  to  be  watching  Merriwell,  for 
he  whirled  about  and  hastened  away  the  moment  Frank 
started  in  his  direction. 

"Oh,  I  want  to  get  my  hands  on  that  fellow !"  grated 
Frank. 

The  man  did  his  best  to  escape,  but  Merriwell  was 
close  after  him.  The  stranger  hurried  along  a  street, 
and  Frank  broke  into  a  run.  Then  the  unknown 
glanced  over  his  shoulder,  and  started  to  run  himself. 

"Hold  on!"  commanded  Frank. 

That  made  the  stranger  run  the  faster. 

Frank  followed,  but  could  see  nothing  of  the  person 
he  was  pursuing. 


Trapped.  297 

"He  must  have  dodged  into  a  doorway,"  decided 
the  lad.  "No — here  is  where  he  went,  down  this 
alley." 

The  mouth  of  a  dark  alley  was  before  him,  and  he 
plunged  into  it.  He  did  not  go  far  before  he  decided 
that  further  pursuit  was  folly,  and  he  turned  back. 

"He's  slippery,"  muttered  the  boy;  "but  I'll  catch 
him  some  time,  if  he  continues  to  shadow  me." 

Dark  forms  appeared  at  the  mouth  of  the  alley,  and 
a  hoarse  whisper  came  to  Merriwell's  ears : 

"He  went  in  here,  and  the  alley  is  blind,  so  he  can't 
get  out.  Do  him — and  do  him  dirty !" 

For  all  that  Frank  had  been  often  in  desperate  peril, 
something  about  this  situation  chilled  him  to  the  heart. 
The  uncanny  darkness,  the  unknown  alley,  his  creep- 
ing foes  coming  down  upon  him,  possibly  with  deadly 
intent,  all  served  to  make  him  feel  weak  and  helpless 
for  the  moment. 

There  are  times  when  the  bravest  heart  shrinks  with 
dread,  and,  for  all  that  Frank  was  a  lad  with  remark- 
able nerve,  it  is  not  strange  that  he  felt  a  thrill  of  fear 
at  that  moment. 

It  is  claimed  that  men  have  lived  who  "never  knew 


298  Trapped. 

the  meaning  of  the  word  fear,"  and  it  is  possible  that 
this  may  be  true;  but  in  case  they  ever  were  placed 
in  situations  of  extreme  peril,  such  persons  must  have 
been  lacking  in  some  of  the  essential  elements  that  com- 
pose a  human  being.  We  think  of  them  as  deficient  in 
certain  ways,  wanting  in  the  finer  qualities,  and 
naturally  coarse  and  brutish. 

It  is  the  person  who  experiences  fear  and  conquers 
it  by  his  own  determination  to  do  so  who  is  the  great- 
est hero. 

One  of  the  bravest  generals  America  has  produced, 
a  man  who  had  the  reputation  of  being  utterly  fear- 
less, once  was  asked  if  he  ever  had  been  afraid  while  in 
battle.  "No,  sir,"  was  his  reply,  "never  in  battle; 
but  sometimes  just  before  going  into  an  engagement, 
I  have  felt  it  necessary  to  keep  my  teeth  clinched  to 
prevent  my  heart  from  jumping  out  of  my  mouth." 

Still  the  men  whom  he  commanded  never  knew  that 
he  experienced  a  single  thrill  of  fear.  He  conquered 
his  trepidation  by  his  wonderful  will  power,  and  al- 
ways in  battle  he  appeared  perfectly  unaware  that  there 
was  the  least  danger.  Indeed,  he  was  sometimes  criti- 


Trapped.  299 

cised  for  his  apparent  recklessness  in  exposing  himself 
to  deadly  peril. 

Frank  Merriwell  never  courted  peril,  and  he  avoided 
danger  when  he  could  do  so  in  a  manly  way  and  with- 
out lowering  his  own  sense  of  dignity. 

Once  engaged  in  a  dangerous  encounter,  or  forced 
into  a  position  of  peril,  Frank's  blood  arose,  and  he 
seemed  to  be  seized  by  a  reckless  disregard  of  his  per- 
sonal safety.  Then  it  was  that  he  laughed  in  a  singu- 
lar manner,  and  his  enemies  had  learned  that  he  was 
the  most  dangerous  when  that  laugh  sounded  from  his 
lips. 

As  he  heard  those  unknown  foes  creeping  down  upon 
him  in  the  darkness  of  the  alley,  Frank  crouched  close 
to  the  ground,  and  felt  about  with  his  hand  for  some 
weapon  of  defense. 

Fear  suddenly  gave  place  to  anger,  and  he  longed 
to  retaliate  on  his  enemies.  He  knew  well  enough 
that  the  men  creeping  down  upon  him  were  hired  tools, 
chosen  by  his  foes  to  do  him  severe  bodily  injury. 

"Oh,  for  a  club — a  stone — anything!"  he  thought. 

But  his  hand  found  nothing  that  suited  his  need  at 
that  moment. 


3oo  Trapped. 

The  cautiously  advancing  men  came  nearer  and 
nearer.  He  could  hear  them  whispering  to  each  other, 
and  they  seemed  to  block  the  entire  width  of  the  nar- 
row alley.  He  could  not  make  out  their  number,  but 
he  was  sure  there  must  be  several  of  them. 

"Can  yer  see  him,  Jake?" 

"No,  an'  I  can't  hear  him  neither." 

"But  he's  here  somewhere,  and  they  say  he'll  fight. 
Look  out  fer  him." 

Frank  heard  these  whispered  words,  and  then,  with- 
out realizing  that  he  was  about  to  do  so,  he  laughed ! 

There  were  hoarse  cries,  curses  and  blows.  A  sav- 
age struggle  suddenly  was  begun  in  the  dark  alky. 

Frank  had  hoped  to  break  through  the  line  of  his 
foes  by  his  sudden  rush,  but  he  was  not  successful,  al- 
though his  hard  right  fist  knocked  a  man  down  with 
his  first  blow. 

Then  he  received  a  shock  that  seemed  to  cause  a 
thousand  bright  lights  to  flash  before  his  eyes,  and  he 
knew  he  had  been  struck  on  the  head  with  some  sort 
of  weapon. 

The  boy  staggered.  Uttering  hoarse  exclamations, 
his  assailants,  like  beasts  of  prey,  sprang  upon  him. 


Trapped.  301 

"Give  it  to  him !"  cried  a  voice. 

With  new  strength  Frank  twisted  and  squirmed. 
In  doing  so,  he  threw  his  head  from  side  to  side,  and 
it  chanced  that  he  succeeded  in  saving  it  from  the  blows 
which  were  intended  to  render  him  helpless. 

Those  blows,  many  of  them,  at  least,  fell  on  his 
shoulders  and  his  back  with  benumbing  force. 

He  forgot  that  his  left  hand  was  not  yet  well,  but 
he  used  it  as  freely  and  as  vigorously  as  his  right. 

And,  once  more,  something  like  a  laugh  came  from 
his  lips. 

"Hear  him !"  hissed  one  of  the  ruffians.  "Why,  he's 
a  perfect  young  fiend !" 

But  Frank  could  not  long  hold  his  own  against 
such  odds.  Some  of  the  blows  aimed  at  his  head  fell 
glancingly,  but  they  were  enough  to  rob  him  in  a  meas- 
ure of  his  strength.  He  tried  to  tear  away,  and  then 
he  was  felled  to  the  ground. 

Merriwell  felt  that  "the  jig  was  up"  with  him. 
They  had  him  at  their  mercy,  at  last. 

Then  it  was  that  a  surprising  thing  happened.  With 
encouraging  cries,  two  men  came  through  the  darkness 
and  attacked  the  boy's  assailants. 


3O2  Trapped. 

That  the  new  arrivals  on  the  battlefield  were  armed 
with  heavy  clubs  was  apparent,  and  they  used  them 
mercilessly  on  the  ruffians. 

This  attack  was  unexpected  by  Frank's  assailants, 
and  they  could  not  meet  it.  Immediately  they  turned 
and  fled,  pursued  by  one  of  the  men  who  had  set  upon 
them. 

Just  then,  apparently  disturbed  by  the  sounds  of  the 
fight,  some  person  came  to  a  nearby  window  with  a 
lighted  lamp. 

The  light  shone  out  into  the  alley,  and  fell  on  Frank 
Merriwell  and  one  of  the  men  who  had  saved  him. 

"Plug  Kirby!"  gasped  Frank,  sitting  up. 

"Dat's  wot,  me  boy!"  cried  the  bruiser,  cheerfully. 
"An'  I  kinder  t'ink  we  didn't  git  round  any  too  quick 
neider." 

"You  came  just  in  time." 

"Be  yer  hurt  much,  youngster?"  asked  Kirby,  anx- 
iously, assisting  Frank  to  arise. 

"I  think  not.  Got  a  few  cracks  and  was  upset,  but 
that  is  all.  Where  is  the  man  who  was  with  you?*1 

"He  whooped  it  along  after  der  gang.     Kinder  t'ink 


Trapped.  303 

he  wanted  ter  ketch  one  of  der  blokes  an'  hold  him  fer 
der  perlice  ter  pinch." 

"Who  was  he?" 

"Dunno." 

"What?"  cried  Frank,  astonished — "don't  know  who 
was  with  you  when  you  came  to  my  aid  ?" 

"Well,  I  dunno  his  name,  youngster,  and  that's 
on  der  level." 

Frank  was  eager  to  ask  more  questions,  but  Plug 
said: 

"We'd  best  push  outer  dis.  Dunno  wot'll  happen 
if  we  stays  here  too  long.  Der  gang  might  come 
back." 

So  they  hurried  out  of  the  alley,  Frank  receiving 
some  assistance  from  Kirby,  as  he  was  rather  dizzy 
when  he  tried  to  walk. 

When  the  street  was  reached  no  one  seemed  to  be 
in  the  immediate  vicinity. 

"Shall  we  wait  for  your  friend?"  asked  Merriwell. 

"Naw,"  answered  Plug.  "He  ain't  likely  ter  come 
back." 

A  short  time  later  they  were  seated  at  a  table  in  a 
nearby  resort,  and  Frank  was  treating  Kirby. 


304  Trapped. 

Frank  had  examined  his  own  injuries,  and  discov- 
ered they  were  not  serious,  although  it  was  likely  that 
he  would  be  sore  about  the  head  and  shoulders  from  the 
bruises  he  had  received. 

"Now  tell  me"  urged  Frank,  "who  was  with  you 
when  you  came  to  my  assistance?  I  am  eager  to 
know." 

"I  tole  yer  dat  I  don't  know  der  cove's  name,  but 
I  do  know  dat  he  is  all  right  an'  on  der  level." 

"Well,  how  is  that  you  do  not  know  his  name?* 

"Never  asked  him." 

"How  do  you  happen  to  know  him  ?" 

"Well,  yer  see,  it  was  dis  way :  I  was  inter  Jackson's 
der  odder  evenin'  takin'  me  nightcap.  Dere  was  some 
fellers  in  dere  wot  was  college  chaps,  and  dey  was 
talkin'  about  races  and  t'ings.  Pretty  soon  dey  said 
somet'ing  about  you.  Some  of  'em  was  hard  on  you, 
an'  dat  got  me  mad  up.  I  jes'  waded  inter  der  gang 
an'  offered  ter  lick  anybody  wot  didn't  t'ink  you  was 
der  clean  stuff." 

Frank  smiled  a  bit,  realizing  that  he  had,  indeed, 
made  a  firm  friend  of  this  bruiser  who  had  once  tried 


Trapped.  305 

to  whip  him,  but  had  received  a  severe  drubbing,  in- 
stead. 

"Dey  didn't  want  ter  shove  up  against  me,"  Kirby 
went  on,  "an'  dey  got  out  right  away.  Den  a  man 
walks  up  ter  me,  and  he  says  I  was  all  right,  an*  he 
blows  me.  He  continues  ter  blow  me,  an'  ask  me 
questions  about  you.  Arter  a  while,  he  asks  me  if  I 
would  fight  fer  you  if  I  had  der  chance,  'Would  I!' 
says  I,  jes'  like  dat.  'Well,  old  sport,  show  me  der 
chance!'  Den  he  says  dat  you  has  some  enemies  wot 
is  plannin'  ter  do  yer,  an'  he  might  be  able  ter  give  me 
a  chance  ter  put  in  a  few  licks  fer  yer. 

"Well,  dis  evenin',  as  I  was  inter  Jackson's,  who 
should  come  in  an'  call  me  aside  but  dis  same  cove. 
He  says  ter  me,  'Kirby' — he  had  found  out  me  name 
— 'Kirby,'  says  he,  jes'  like  dat,  Tm  goin'  ter  give  yer 
dat  chance  ter  put  in  some  licks  fer  Frank  Merriwell.' 

"Den  he  tells  me  dat  he  were  in  a  place  an'  heard  a 
scheme, ter  put  some  toughs  onter  yer  ter-night  w'en 
yer  was  goin'  home  from  der  t'eeter.  Dey  had  heard 
some  feller  say  dat  he  was  goin'  ter  invite  yer  ter  be  in 
er  box  wid  him  at  der  t'eeter,  an'  so  dey  knew  yer  was 
goin'. 


306  Trapped. 

"Dat's  all,  'cept  dat  me  an'  der  bloke  wot  was  wid  me 
went  ter  der  t'eeter,  him  payin'  all  expenses,  an'  we 
kept  watch  of  yer.  Wen  we  came  out,  you  started 
fer  him,  an'  he  hooked  it.  I  was  s'prised,  but  I  fol- 
lered.  Den  I  found  dere  was  odders  follerin',  an  der 
gang  run  yer  in  here.  Der  feller  I  was  wid,  as  was 
in  a  doorway  nigh  der  alley  all  der  time,  skipped  back 
fer  me,  an'  we  jumped  right  down  inter  der  alley, 
takin'  some  heavy  canes,  wot  we  had  wid  us  all  der 
time.  You  know  wot  happened  arter  dat." 

Frank  was  puzzled  and  mystified.  He  asked  Plug 
to  describe  the  mysterious  man,  and  Kirby  did  so. 
This  added  to  Frank's  wonderment,  for  the  descrip- 
tion tallied  with  that  of  the  stranger  who  had  tried  to 
bribe  him  to  throw  a  ball  game  to  Harvard;  but  that 
it  could  be  the  same  man,  even  though  everything  indi- 
cated that  it  must  be,  Frank  could  not  believe. 

That  nightj  after  going  to  bed,  Frank  lay  awake  for 
hours,  thinking  of  the  stranger  and  the  mystery  which 
surrounded  him. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

AN   EMISSARY   FROM    THE   WEST. 

Frank  was  determined  to  solve  the  mystery  of  the 
'uiknown  man.  He  did  not  tell  Rattleton  everything 
concerning  his  adventure  of  the  previous  night,  al- 
though he  was  forced  to  explain  that  he  had  been  in 
an  encounter,  and  that  he  did  not  know  who  his  as- 
sailants were. 

The  theatre  party  had  wondered  greatly  at  Frank's 
sudden  disappearance,  and  Frank  confessed  that  he 
had  followed  the  mysterious  unknown,  who  had  given 
him  the  slip. 

"That  fellow  is  playing  the  shadow  on  you,  Frank," 
cried  Harry,  indignantly.  "He's  up  to  some  sort  of 
crookedness." 

"He  must  bear  a  charmed  life,  or  he  would  have 
been  killed  the  night  he  jumped  from  the  New  Lon- 
don special,'*  said  Frank. 

"He  decided  it  was  best  to  take  chances  by  jump- 


308        An  Emissary  from  the  West. 

ing  rather  than  to  fall  into  the  hands  of  Old  Eli's  sons, 
and  I  think  he  was  right." 

Creighton  came  around  to  inquire  how  it  happened 
that  Merriwell  disappeared  so  suddenly  the  previous 
evening. 

Since  the  boat  race  Creighton  had  sought  Merri- 
well's  company,  although  he  had  scarcely  given  Frank 
any  attention  before  that. 

Creighton  was  a  prominent  society  man  and  had 
considerable  influence  at  Yale;  his  friendship  was  of 
value  to  any  fellow  on  whom  he  saw  fit  to  bestow  it. 

His  father  was  rich,  and  Charlie  spent  money  freely, 
as  his  whims  dictated.  Not  even  those  with  whom  he 
was  not  on  friendly  terms,  however,  could  justly  ac- 
cuse him  of  being  a  cad. 

"Awfully  jolly  time  last  night,"  yawned  Creighton. 
"It  was  rather  kiddish,  but  it  is  a  relief  to  play  the  boy 
once  in  a  while.  It  capped  the  whole  business  when 
the  actors  themselves  finished  the  fun  by  giving  the 
manager  away  in  the  last  act." 

Frank  smiled,  but  did  not  explain  his  connection 
with  the  crowning  event  of  the  evening. 

"Jove!  I'm  hungry,"  Charlie  declared.     "Come  on, 


An  Emissary  from  the  West.         309 

Merriwell  and  Rattleton,  we'll  go  down  to  Bob's,  and 
have  a  chop." 

He  would  not  take  no  for  an  answer,  and  so,  a  few 
minutes  later^  the  trio  crossed  the  campus,  Creighton 
in  the  middle,  his  arms  locked  with  those  of  the  other 
lads.  All  were  laughing  and  joking  in  a  light-hearted 
manner. 

Creighton  took  them  directly  to  a  restaurant  that 
was  famous  for  its  chops.  They  ordered,  Charlie  and 
Harry  taking  ale  with  their  food. 

Just  as  the  chops  were  brought  on,  a  man  came  in 
and  took  a  seat  at  a  table  nearby.  This  man  was 
dressed  in  a  new  suit  of  "store  clothes,"  and  wore  a  full 
beard.  He  gave  his  order  to  the  waiter  in  a  low  tone, 
and  then  began  perusing  a  paper,  behind  which  his  face 
was  almost  entirely  hidden. 

Rattleton  happened  to  sit  so  that  he  naturally  looked 
toward  the  man,  and,  several  times,  he  caught  that 
individual  peering  over  the  top  of  the  paper.  It  did 
not  take  Harry  long  to  note  that  the  person  with  the 
paper  seemed  to  be  watching  Frank  Merriwell. 

Suddenly  Frank's  roommate  arose,  and,  with  two 
swift  steps,  he  was  at  the  man's  side.  Without  a  word, 


3io        An  Emissary  from  the  West. 

Harry  caught  the  gentleman  by  the  beard,  which  he 
gave  a  sharp  jerk. 

The  beard  came  off  in  Harry's  hand ! 

It  was  false! 

"Look,  Frank!"  cried  Rattleton,  pointing  at  the 
smooth-shaven  face  exposed ;  "it  is  the  mysterious  man 
who  has  been  following  you  about !" 

It  was  in  truth  the  mysterious  unknown,  and  Frank 
was  on  his  feet  in  a  twinkling,  resolved  not  to  let  the 
man  escape  till  he  had  given  a  full  explanation  of  his 
remarkable  conduct. 

To  Merriwell's  surprise,  the  stranger  showed  no  de- 
sire to  run  away,  but  sat  smiling  serenely  up  at  him, 
calmly  observing: 

"Do  not  excite  yourself,  Mr.  Merriwell ;  there  is  no 
reason  for  it.  I  have  completed  my  business  in  a  most 
satisfactory  manner,  and  I  am  now  ready  to  explain 
everything  to  you." 

"It  is  an  explanation  which  I  expect  and  demand," 
said  Frank,  coldly.  "It  is  no  more  than  fair  that  I 
should  have  one,  as  you  have  shown  yourself  my  per- 
sistent enemy,  and  that  without  any  just  cause  that  I 
know  of." 


An  Emissary  from  the  West.         311 

"You  are  mistaken,"  returned  the  man ;  "instead  of 
your  enemy,  I  have  been  your  firm  friend  from  the 
very  first" 

"I  fail  to  see  how  you  can  make  that  out." 

"I  will  call  at  your  rooms  this  evening  and  give  you 
a  full  explanation." 

"No !"  cried  Frank,  promptly,  "you  will  give  me  an 
explanation  here  and  immediately." 

"I  do  not  think  you  will  press  me  to  that,"  was  the 
calm  assertion.  "I  might  speak  of  affairs  of  a  personal 
and  family  nature." 

"You — you  speak  of  such  affairs — to  me?  Now  it 
strikes  me  that  you  are  attempting  a  bluff,  sir;  but  it 
will  not  work." 

The  stranger  reached  into  his  pocket  and  took  out 
something,  which  he  held  up  before  Frank's  eyes. 

"This,"  he  said,  with  confidence,  "will  convince  you 
that  I  speak  nothing  but  the  truth." 

"My  father's  ring!"  gasped  Frank. 

"Yes,"  bowed  the  man ;  "it  is  the  ring  that  led  him 
to  one  of  the  richest  mines  in  the  Southwest.  He  said 
that  it  would  simply  be  necessary  for  me  to  show  it  to 


312        An  Emissary  from  the  West. 

you,  and  you  would  know  that  he  sent  me.     Shall  I 
call  this  evening,  Mr.  Merriwell  ?" 

"If  you  please,  sir,"  said  Frank,  bowing  respectfully. 

The  boys  were  surprised,  but  Frank  said  he  wouK 
explain  some  time  later. 

That  evening  the  stranger  called,  as  he  had  said  he 
would.  Frank  had  taken  pains  to  run  Harry  out  of 
the  room,  so  they  were  quite  alone.  The  boy  locked 
the  door,  as  a  precaution  against  unwelcome  interrup- 
tions. 

The  mysterious  man  introduced  himself  as  David 
Scott,  the  confidential  agent  of  Charles  Merriwell, 
Frank's  unfortunate  father,  who  had  spent  the  best 
years  of  his  life  and  separated  himself  from  his  fam- 
ily and  friends  in  the  mad  search  after  "phantom  for- 
tune." 

At  last  Charles  Merriwell  had  "struck  it  rich,"  and 
he  was  now  a  very  wealthy  man ;  but  he  was  broken  in 
health,  and  he  often  feared  for  his  reason.  As  Charles 
Merriwell  had  been  eccentric  and  unfathomable  all  his 
life  while  poor,  thus  he  remained  now  that  he  was  rich. 
Of  late  he  had  been  seized  by  a  conviction  that  he  could 
not  live  long,  and  it  was  his  desire  to  make  a  will  that 


An  Emissary  from  the  West.         313 

would  give  almost  his  entire  wealth  to  his  son.  But 
before  he  made  such  a  will,  Mr.  Merriwell  decided  to 
know  just  what  sort  of  a  young  man  his  son  had  be- 
come. As  he  did  not  feel  like  leaving  his  mine  and 
going  East  to  investigatet  he  sent  his  confidential  clerk, 
David  Scott. 

In  his  instructions  to  Scott,  Charles  Merriwell 
showed  the  peculiarities  of  his  character.  He  pro- 
vided the  agent  with  plenty  of  money,  and  instructed 
him  to  thoroughly  probe  the  inward  character  of  the 
youth  about  which  he  was  to  acquire  information. 
Scott  was  instructed  to  discover  all  of  Frank's  bad 
habits,  and  to  determine  if  the  lad  could  be  led  astray 
by  evil  influence,  or  in  any  other  manner.  The  agent 
had  carried  out  his  instructions  to  his  complete  satis- 
faction, and  he  complimented  the  blushing  boy  on  his 
integrity  of  character  and  sterling  manhood. 

Scott  explained  how  he  had  pretended  to  ally  him- 
self with  Frank's  foes,  and  thus  had  heard  the  plots 
against  the  boy.  He  had  sent  Frank  the  warnings, 
and  he  had  secured  the  aid  of  Plug  Kirby  to  aid  him 
in  beating  off  Merriwell's  ruffianly  assailants. 

"I  scarcely  think  you  will  be  troubled  any  more  by 


314        An  Emissary  from  the  West 

your  enemies,"  declared  Scott.  "I  had  a  session  with 
them  last  night,  after  the  failure  of  their  attempt  on 
you,  and  I  sent  the  varmints  scurrying  for  tall  timber 
in  a  hurry.  I  told  them  that  I  was  your  friend,  and 
not  your  enemy,  and  that  I  would  come  up  as  a  wit- 
ness against  them  if  you  saw  fit  to  prosecute  them. 
Then  they  begged  me  to  keep  still,  and  agreed  to  let  up 
on  you  for  good  and  all  if  I  wouldn't  chirp.  I  made 
the  galoots  no  promises." 

For  hours  Frank  and  Scott  sat  and  talked  of  Charles 
Merriwell,  his  health,  his  mine  and  his  plans.  And 
when  the  man  departed,  it  was  with  a  letter  from 
Frank  Merriwell  to  Charles  Merriwell  in  his  possession. 

The  next  evening  Frank  received  a  call  which  sur- 
prised him  greatly.  What  it  was  the  next  chapter 
will  tell. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

FRIENDS     OR     FOES. 

Thump — bang!  thump — bang! 

"Open  this  door!" 

Thumpety — thump — bang!  bang;  bang! 

"Open  this  door,  or  I  will  dake  it  brown — I  mean  I 
will  break  it  down !" 

Harry  was  excited. 

"Hold  on  a  moment,  can't  you  ?"  cried  the  laughing 
voice  of  Frank  from  within  the  room. 

Harry  was  pressing  against  the  door  with  one  hand, 
having  rained  the  heavy  blows  upon  it  with  the 
other  hand,  which  was  clinched  in  a  most  threatening 
manner. 

The  door  flew  open  with  a  suddenness  that  precipi- 
tated Rattleton  into  the  room  with  a  headlong  rush 
and  plunged  him  plump  into  the  stomach  of  a  young 
man  who  happened  to  be  in  the  way. 

"Ugh!" 

"Wow!" 


316  Friends  or  Foes. 

Bump!  bump! — both  went  down,  clasped  in  each 
other's  arms. 

Two  other  lads  stood  staring  at  the  fallen  ones. 
They  were  Frank  Merriwell  and  Fred  Flemming. 

Tom  Thornton  was  the  unfortunate  who  stood  in 
the  way  of  Rattleton's  headlong  rush. 

And  Harry,  quite  unintentionally,  had  struck  Thorn- 
ton a  smart  blow  with  his  clinched  fist. 

At  that  moment  it  did  look  as  if  the  excited  lad  had 
rushed  into  the  room  with  the  premeditated  purpose 
of  hitting  Tom. 

"Here!  here! — break  away!"  cried  Merriwell, 
sharply. 

"Not  much!"  panted  Tom,  in  excitement  and  anger. 
"Think  I'm  going  to  let  him  go,  so  he  can  hit  me 
again  ?" 

"Catch  hold,  Flemming,"  ordered  Frank — "catch 
hold  of  your  friend,  and  we'll  part  them." 

He  grasped  Rattleton  by  the  collar  as  he  spoke,  but 
Fred  made  no  move  to  pull  Thornton  away. 

Seeing  this,  Merriwell  obtained  a  firm  hold  on  the 
collars  of  both  Harry  and  Tom,  and,  with  a  surprising 


Friends  or  Foes.  317 

display  of  strength,  wrenched  them  apart,  yanked 
them  to  their  feet,  and  held  them  at  arm's  length. 

"Steady,  now!"  he  cried,  as  they  seemed  to  betray 
a  desire  to  get  at  each  other.  "Quit  it !" 

"He  struck  me!"  cried  Thornton. 

"It  was  antirely  excidental — no,  entirely  accidental," 
declared  Harry,  flourishing  his  arms. 

Tom  dodged. 

"Well,  you  act  as  if  you  are  trying  to  bring  about 
another  accident,"  he  said.  "I  know  you  hit  me  in- 
tentionally, and  I'll  make  you  pay  for  it,  too!" 

"Bah!  you  can't  make  me  pay  for  anything!"  flung 
back  Harry,  his  anger  aroused  by  Thornton's  words. 

"Do  you  think  you  can  run  around  punching  fellows 
in  this  way  without  getting  it  back?  You'll  find  you 
are  mistaken!" 

"You  were  in  my  way  when  I  came  in." 
"I  didn't  have  time  to  get  out  of  your  way." 
"Well,  what's  all  this  about  anyway?"  demanded 

Frank.     "Are  you  fellows  trying  to  settle  some  sort  of 

a  score?" 

"It  looks  to  me,"  said  Flemming,  stiffly,  "as  if  Mr. 


318  Friends  or  Foes. 

Rattleton  took  advantage  of  our  presence  in  this  room 
to  strike  Thornton." 

"Well,  what  are  you  chaps  here  for,  anyway?"  de- 
manded Harry.  "That  is  what  I  would  like  to  know. 
We  don't  run  in  your  class,  and  so " 

"Hold  up,  old  man/'  interrupted  Merriwell, 
promptly.  "Mr.  Flemming  and  Mr.  Thornton  called 
to  see  me  about  a  personal  matter." 

"I  thought  so,"  declared  Rattleton,  "and  I  decided 
you  would  get  the  worst  end  of  it,  as  they  were  two 
to  your  one — and  the  door  was  locked.  If  they  are 
here  to  do  you,  count  me  into  it.  I'll  take  care  of 
this  fellow  Thornton  while  you  polish  off  Flemming." 

"We  did  not  come  here  to  fight,"  said  Fred, 
haughtily. 

"Didn't?"  exclaimed  Harry,  in  surprise.  "Then 
what  sort  of  a  game  are  you  up  to,  for  I  know  it  is 
something  crooked?" 

Flemming  tossed  his  head. 

"Mr.  Rattleton,"  he  said,  "your  language  is  very 
offensive  to  me." 

"Had  to  glear  it — I  mean  glad  to  hear  it,"  shot  back 


Friends  or  Foes.  319 

Rattleton,  rudely.  "I  didn't  want  you  to  misunder- 
stand me." 

"Mr.  Merriwellj"  said  Fred,  turning  to  Frank,  "I 
think  we  had  better  go.  Our  business  was  with  you, 
and  Mr.  Rattleton  seems  determined  to  raise  a  quarrel 
with  us.  As  you  know,,  we  did  not  come  here  to 
quarrel,  and,  regarding  Mr.  Rattleton  as  your  friend, 
we  will  endeavor  to  overlook  his  behavior  and  insult- 
ing language." 

"But  we  cannot  forget  it,"  added  Thornton,  giving 
Harry  a  fierce  look.  "It  will  be  remembered." 

"I  am  sure  I  don't  want  you  to  forget  it,"  flung  back 
Rattleton. 

"Comej  Tom,"  urged  Flemming,  "we  will  go. 
Good-day,  Mr.  Merriwell." 

Frank  released  Thornto^  who  followed  Flemming 
from  the  room,  simply  pausing  at  the  door  to  say: 

"Good-by,  Mr.  Merriwell." 

"Good-by,"  smiled  Frank. 

And  then,  when  the  door  had  closed  behind  them, 
Frank  dropped  into  a  chair  and  laughed  softly  but 
heartily. 

"Well,  I  fail  to  fee  anything  sunny  about  it — I  mean 


32O  Friends  or  Foes. 

I  fail  to  see  anything  funny  about  it,"  growled  Rattle- 
ton,  prancing  fiercely  up  and  down  the  room.  "If 
you'll  tell  me  where  the  laugh  comes  in,  I'll  snicker, 
just  to  keep  you  company." 

"The  whole  thing  is  very  funny,"  laughed  Merri- 
well.  "Why,  you  were  eager  to  hammer  Thornton, 
and  the  fellow  was  afraid  you  would,  for  all  the  bluff 
he  put  up." 

"It  would  have  given  me  great  satisfaction  to  thump 
him,"  confessed  Harry;  "for  I  know  it  is  exactly  what 
•he  deserves.  What  were  they  up  to,  anyway?  That's 
what  puzzles  me.  I  expected  to  find  that  they  had 
done  you  up." 

"Oh,  nothing  of  the  sort!" 

"But  they  were  up  to  some  crooked  game — I  know 
it.  I  thought  they  had  fastened  the  door,  so  that  they 
could  do  the  job  without  being  interrupted." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!"  laughed  Frank.  "That  explains  why 
you  looked  as  if  you  were  literally  thirsting  for  gore 
when  you  lunged  into  the  room  and  grappled  with 
Thornton," 

"Did  I  hit  him?" 


Friends  or  Foes.  321 

"You  had  your  fist  clinched,  and  you  may  have  given 
him  a  slight  rap  in  your  excitement." 

"Well,  I  did  not  give  him  that  rap  intentionally;  if 
I  had,  he'd  found  something  entirely  different  By 
jingoes!  I  may  get  the  chance  to  show  him  the  dif- 
ference some  time !" 

"You'd  better  drop  it,  old  man." 

"Eh?   Drop  it?" 

"That's  what  I  said,  Harry,  and  that  is  what  I 
meant,  my  boy." 

"But  why  ?  I  don't  think  I  understand  you.  Those 
fellows  are  your  enemies,  and  that  makes  them  mine." 

"They  have  been  my  enemies,  but  we  have  had  a 
peace  conference." 

"The  dickens!" 

"And  we  buried  the  hatchet." 

"Well,  I  didn't  suppose  you  could  be  fooled  so  easy ! 
I  knew  they  were  up  to  some  sort  of  a  game — I  knew 
it." 

"Well,  what  sort  of  a  game  do  you  think  it  was  ?" 

"They're  trying  to  fool  you — trying  to  make  you 
think  they  are  ready  to  bury  the  hatchet,  while  they  are 


322  Friends  or  Foes. 

still  waiting  to  hit  you  behind  your  back  whenever  they 
can.  That's  the  kind  of  chaps  they  are.  They  can't 
fool  me,  if  they  can  you.  If  they  can  lull  you  into  care- 
lessness till  their  opportunity  comes,  they  will  drive 
the  knife  into  you,  and  sink  it  deep.  Don't  mink  I'm 
thisted — I  mean  don't  think  I'm  twisted.  I  am  dead 
certain  of  the  sort  of  cattle  I'm  talking  about.  You 
will  be  playing  right  into  their  hands  if  you  get  the 
idea  that  they  have  let  up  on  you  in  the  least.  When 
they  get  a  good  chance,  you'll  get  it  in  the  neck." 

"Well,  Harry,  you  may  be  right ;  but  I  have  reasons 
to  believe  that  Flemming  is  anxious  to  call  a  truce  just 
at  present.  He  made  a  serious  mistake  when  he  tried 
to  enlist  David  Scott  against  me.  Scott  found  out  all 
of  Flemming's  plots  and  secured  enough  evidence  of 
the  fellow's  rascality  to  cause  his  expulsion  from  Yale 
if  it  were  made  public." 

"Well,  it  should  be  made  public  immediately." 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that!  Expulsion  from 
college  might  mean  the  ruin  of  Flemming's  future." 

"If  he  keeps  on,  he'll  do  that,  whether  he  is  ex- 
pelled or  not." 


Friends  or  Foes.  323 

"If  he  does  it  himself,  I  shall  not  have  it  on  my 
conscience.  If  I  were  to  bring  about  his  expulsion, 
and  he  went  to  the  dogs,  I  might  blame  myself  for  it, 
thinking  he  would  have  done  differently  had  he  re- 
mained here.  Do  you  catch  on?" 

"I  catch  on  that  you  are  dead  easy  with  your  ene- 
mies till  they  force  you  to  down  them  for  good." 

"But  when  they  do  compel  me  to  down  them — — " 

"I  will  acknowledge  that  you  always  do  a  good 
job,"  said  Rattleton,  with  an  approving  grin. 

"Mr.  Scott  believed  that  I  should  be  severe  with 
Flemming  and  Thornton,"  admitted  Frank;  "but  I 
knew  that  Thornton  was  dragged  into  the  business  by 
Flemming,  without  having  any  real  heart  for  what  he 
was  doing.  If  I  were  to  expose  Flemming,  it  would 
implicate  Thornton,  and  that  seemed  too  much  of  a  re- 
taliation. I  thought  the  whole  matter  over  carefully, 
and  decided  to  give  the  fellows  a  chance.  Then  Mr. 
Scott  went  to  them  and  nearly  frightened  the  life  out 
of  them  by  saying  he  meant  to  expose  them  to  the 
faculty.  That  brought  them  to  their  knees  immedi- 
ately." 


324  Friends  or  Foes. 

Rattleton  expressed  his  satisfaction  by  a  vigorous 
pantomime. 

"Finally,"  continued  Frank,  "when  they  had  begged 
and  promised,  Mr.  Scott  agreed  to  let  up  on  them  if 
they  would  come  to  me,  offer  apologies,  and  give  me 
their  pledge  to  let  me  alone  in  the  future." 

"And  that  is  how  they  happened  to  be  here  to-day  ?" 

"Yes." 

"Why  was  the  door  locked?" 

"I  locked  it  to  prevent  any  of  the  fellows  from  drop- 
ping in  on  us  while  we  were  talking  the  matter  over." 

"Well,  Jones  told  me  he  had  seen  those  chaps  come 
in  here,  and  I  decided  they  were  looking  for  bother,  so 
I  made  a  hustle  to  get  here.  When  I  found  the  door 
locked,  I  was  sure  they  had  you  in  a  corner,  and  so  I 
threatened  to  break  it  down  if  it  was  not  opened  with- 
out delay." 

"And,  when  it  was  opened,  you  came  in  like  a  raging 
lion." 

"Well,  I  was  ready  for  any  scrim  of  a  shortage — I 
mean  any  sort  of  a  scrimmage." 

"You  showed  your  readiness,"  laughed  Frank.     "I 


Friends  or  Foes.  325 

have  the  word  of  those  fellows  that  they  will  let  me 

quite  alone  if  I  drop  the  past." 

"I  wouldn't  believe  either  of  them  under  oath!" 
"You  are  a  doubter  anyway.     We'll  wait  and  see 

what  will  occur." 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

TALK  OF  A  TOUR. 

There  was  a  rap  on  the  door,  which  immediately 
popped  open,  and  in  bobbed  a  head,  thatched  with  car- 
roty hair,  upon  which  was  perched  a  crumpled  cap.  A 
freckled,  jolly  face  was  wrinkled  into  a  cheerful  grin, 
and  a  voice  that  was  made  up  of  bubbles  and  hollows 
cried : 

"Hello,  chaps!  I  just  looked  in  to  see  if  you  were 
doing  well,  as  the  cook  said  to  the  lobster,  when  she 
lifted  the  sauce-pan  lid." 

"Come  in,  Stubbs,"  invited  Frank,  promptly — "come 
in  and  make  yourself  as  big  a  nuisance  as  possible." 

"No  need  to  tell  me  to  do  that,"  piped  the  lad  at  the 
door,  as  he  bounced  into  the  room.  "I  always  make 
myself  a  nuisance  wherever  I  am.  It  is  my  policy." 

He  was  a  little  short-legged  fellow,  with  a  roly-poly 
body  and  twinkling  eyes.  Good  nature  bubbled  out 
all  over  him.  At  a  glance  you  could  see  he  was  the 


Talk  of  a  Tour.  327 

sort  of  chap  who  would  try  to  be  merry  under  almost 
any  circumstances. 

This  was  Bink  Stubbs,  a  lad  with  whom  Frank  and 
Harry  had  recently  become  acquainted.  Frank  had 
picked  him  up  because  of  his  merry  ways  and  quaint 
sayings  of  the  wise  and  humorous  order. 

"Have  you  fellers  got  any  smokers  ?"  asked  Bink,  as 
he  deposited  himself  on  a  chair. 

"No,  we  haven't  got  any  smokers,"  answered  Harry. 
"And  the  last  time  you  were  here,  Bruce  Browning 
said  you  swiped  a  whole  package  of  cigarettes  from 
him." 

Stubbs  tried  to  look  horrified,  and  then  cried: 

"Well,  I'll  be  hanged!  as  the  picture  said  when  it 
found  the  cord  was  tied  to  it." 

"You  know  neither  of  us  smoke,"  said  Merriwell. 

"I  know  you  pretend  you  do  not,  but  I  don't  know 
that  you  are  not  bluffing  when  you  say  so." 

"What's  that?  Do  you  mean  to  insinuate  that  I 
am  lying?  Why,  I'll  step  on  you,  Stubbsie!" 

"In  that  case  my  days  are  numbered,  as  the  calendar 
said  to  the  blotter." 

There  was  a  sound  of  voices  outside  the  door,  and 


328  Talk  of  a  Tour. 

then,  with  very  little  ceremony,  three  lads  came  filing 
into  the  room. 

There  were  Browning,  Diamond  and  Griswold. 

^Get  up,  you  little  villain!"  said  Bruce,  as  he  col- 
lared Stubbs  and  yanked  him  off  the  easy-chair. 
"Don't  you  know  enough  to  let  other  folks  have  a 
chance  to  sit  down,  you  lazy  little  rascal?" 

And  then,  with  a  sigh  of  relief,  Bruce  deposited  his 
corpulent  form  on  the  chair. 

Stubbs  bristled  up,  as  if  he  meant  to  fight,  then 
seemed  to  change  his  mind,  and  shook  his  head  and  re- 
marked : 

"Such  things  are  bound  to  a  cur,  as  the  dog  said 
when  he  looked  at  the  tin  can  that  was  tied  to  his 
tail." 

The  boys  were  welcomed  by  Frank  and  Harry,  and 
Merriwell  said: 

"I'm  glad  you  fellows  dropped  in.  I  want  to  find 
out  how  many  of  you  are  going  to  take  that  bicycle 
trip  across  the  continent  during  the  summer  vacation." 

"Jeewhiskers !"  grinned  Danny  Griswold.  "Think 
of  Bruce  Browning,  the  champion  lazy  man  at  Yale, 


Talk  of  a  Tour.  329 

riding  a  bicycle  across  the  continent.  The  exertion  of 
riding  across  the  campus  would  utterly  prostrate  him." 

"Urn!"  grunted  Bruce.  "It's  singular  that  small 
things  annoy  one  worst." 

"Oh,  yes,"  returned  Danny,  promptly ;  "even  a  little 
mosquito  bores  me  frightfully." 

"Say,  Griswold,"  piped  Stubbs,  "that's  a  bad  habit 
to  get  into." 

"What's  a  bad  habit  to  get  into?"  demanded  Danny, 
bristling  up  resentfully. 

"That  suit  of  clothes  you  have  on,"  said  Stubbs, 
whimsically.  "It's  a  miserable  fit" 

"Well,  you'll  have  a  bad  fit  if  I  get  after  you!"  ex- 
claimed Griswold,  hotly.  "You're  a  base  fraud  and  an 
impostor!  You  are  trying  to  steal  my  thunder  by 
reading  the  same  comic  papers  that  I  do.  If  you  keep 
this  up  you'll  use  up  all  of  my  original  jokes." 

"Oh,  well,"  said  Stubbs,  "cough  up  a  cigarette  and 
I'll  let  you  forgive  me.  I'm  dying  for  a  whiff." 

Griswold  hesitated,  and  then  flung  a  package  of 
cigarettes  at  Bink,  who  skillfully  caught  them,  extracted 
one,  closed  the  package,  and  tossed  it  back.  A  moment 
later  the  little  chap  had  lighted  the  cigarette,  and,  as 


330  Talk  of  a  Tour. 

he  deposited  himself  at  full  length  on  a  tiger-skin  rug1, 
he  puffed  out  a  great  whiff  of  smoke,  and  murmured : 
"Now  I  have  something  to  blow  about,  as  the  cy- 
clone said  when  it  lifted  a  house  and  barn  into  the  next 
State." 

"Speaking  about  clothes,"  said  Browning,  languid- 
ly, "did  you  see  Goldstei^  the  tailor,  to-day,  Rattle- 
ton?" 

"Yes,  I  saw  him,"  nodded  Harry. 

"And  did  you  tell  him  I  said  I  would  settle  that  little 
bill?" 

"Sure." 

"That's  kind  of  you.    Did  he  seem  convinced?" 

"He  said  he  was." 

"Was  what?" 

"Convinced  that  you  lied." 

This  provoked  a  laugh.  When  the  laughing  had 
ceased,  Griswold  sagely  observed: 

"It  is  remarkable  that  man  is  the  only  animal  that 
can  lie  standing  up." 

"Say,  you  chaps,"  called  Frank,  "drop  this  sort  of 
chatter,  and  answer  my  question.  How  many  of  you 


Talk  of  a  Tour.  331 

are  in  for  spending  the  summer  vacation  in  a  bicycle 
trip  across  the  continent?" 

"You'll  have  to  excuse  me,"  said  Griswold,  as  he 
followed  Stubbs'  example  and  lighted  a  cigarette.  "I'm 
g-oing  down  to  Bar  Harbor,  and  play  tennis  on  my  va- 
cation." 

"I  can't  endure  tennis,"  drawled  Browning. 

"I  should  say  not.    Too  much  exertion  for  you." 

"It  is  not  that.  I  don't  like  to  be  around  where 
others  are  playing  it." 

"Don't?    Why  not?" 

"Because  it  is  so  noisy." 

"Noisy?    Christmas!    How  do  you  make  that  out ?" 

"Why,  you  can't  play  it  without  a  racket,"  said 
Browning. 

Griswold  staggered  and  clutched  at  his  heart. 

"What  papers  have  you  been  reading?"  he  gasped. 

Diamond  spoke  up  for  the  first  time: 

"I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do,  Merriwell— I'll  go  on  this 
bicycle  trip  across  the  continent,  if  I  can  secure  my 
mother's  consent?" 

"Will  you?"  cried  Frank,  eagerly.  "Then  see  her 
as  soon  as  possible.  I  couldn't  ask  for  a  better  fellow 


332  Talk  of  a  Tour. 

than  you.  Harry  thinks  he  can  go,  and  that  makes 
three  of  us.  We'll  do  the  trick,  even  if  we  can't  get 
another  fellow.  Is  it  agreed?" 

"It  is  agreed  if  I  can  get  my  mother  to  agree  to  it," 
assured  Jack. 

"Well,  let's  talk  about  another  matter,"  said  Bruce. 
"The  tournament  at  Madison  Square  Garden  is  right 
upon  us.  Are  you  on  for  anything,  Merriwell?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Frank,  "I  shall  take  part  in  several 
contests." 

"How  about  the  mile  run?"  questioned  Diamond. 

"I  believe  Yates  is  in  for  that,"  said  Merriwell. 

"That's  something  I  want  to  speak  to  you  about," 
drawled  Bruce. 

Frank  was  rather  surprised,  as  Browning  had  taken 
very  little  interest  in  athletics  of  late.  During  his 
early  days  at  Yale,  Bruce  had  been  a  pusher  in  athletic 
matters,  being  at  that  time  an  athlete  himself,  as  he 
kept  himself  in  form  and  held  back  the  threatening  de- 
velopment of  flesh  by  the  severest  sort  of  training. 

But  Bruce  could  not  continue  to  resist  the  tempta- 
tions of  his  appetite,  and  it  became  more  and  more 
difficult  for  him  to  keep  in  trim.  As  long  as  he  was 


Talk  of  a  Tour.  335 

a  freshman  he  had  done  so,  but  when  he  became  a 
sophomore  he  gradually  abandoned  the  struggle. 

Still  he  had  remained  active  as  a  leader,  and  had 
been  known  at  one  time  as  "the  King  of  the  Sopho- 
mores." His  final  effort  at  training  had  been  when  he 
put  himself  in  condition  to  meet  Merriwell  in  a  four- 
round  hard-glove  contest. 

The  bout  had  been  pronounced  a  draw,  but  Brown- 
ing afterward  acknowledged  that  he  must  have  been 
knocked  out  had  it  continued  to  a  finish. 

From  that  time  Browning's  interest  in  athletic  mat- 
ters waned. 

He  lost  ambition  in  that  line,  and  he  soon  became  so 
overburdened  with  flesh  that  nothing  save  a  question 
of  life  or  death  could  have  induced  him  to  go  into 
training. 

It  was  not  so  very  long  before  Bruce  was  known  as 
the  champion  lazy  man  at  Yale.  All  that  he  seemed 
to  care  about  was  to  eat,  drink,  smoke  and  loaf.  He 
seldom  was  known  to  "grind,"  and  his  attempts  at 
"skinning"  were  pitiable  failures. 

Then  he  was  dropped  a  class,  and,  as  he  still  stuck 
to  Yale,  he  found  himself  arrayed  with  Merriwell  and 


334  Talk  of  a  Tour. 

the  fellows  whom  he  at  one  time  had  regarded  as, 
enemies. 

In  that  class  Merriwell  was  regarded  as  a  leader  in 
athletic  matters,  and  Bruce  seldom  mentioned  anything 
of  the  kind.  Now,  however,  to  Merriwell's  surprise, 
he  displayed  sudden  interest  in  the  great  intercollegi- 
ate tournament  to  be  held  in  Madison  Square  Garden, 
New  York,  directly  at  the  close  of  the  spring  terms. 

In  the  various  contests  Yale  was  to  be  represented  by 
her  best  men.  There  had  been  some  uncertainty  con- 
cerning the  one  who  would  wear  Yale's  colors  in  the 
mile  run,  but  the  belief  grew  that  Duncan  Yates,  a 
junior,  would  be  the  one  finally  settled  on  by  the 
committee  in  charge  of  the  matter. 

"Why  don't  you  go  into  that  race,  Browning,  old 
sylph  ?"  grinned  Danny  Griswold.  "You  would  aston- 
ish the  public." 

"Some  time  I'll  sit  on  you,  runtie,"  growled  Bruce. 

Stubbs  remarked: 

"That  will  settle  it,  as  the  sugar  observed  when  the 
egg  dropped  into  the  coffee," 

Rattleton  threw  a  slipper  at  Bink,  who  grunted  as  it 


Talk  of  a  Tour.  335 

struck  him  in  the  ribs,  but  serenely  continued  to 
smoke,  his  mottled  face  wrinkled  into  a  quaint  grimace. 

"What  is  it  that  you  want  to  say  about  the  mile 
racej  Browning?"  asked  Frank,  his  curiosity  aroused. 

"I  want  to  say  that  I  do  not  believe  Yates  is  the 
proper  man  to  represent  Old  Eli." 

"He  is  fast,  and  he  has  a  record." 

"It's  no  use  to  talk  about  his  record." 

"Why  not?" 

"Orton,  of  U.  P.,  lays  over  him,  and  this  will  be 
a  case  of  Yale  against  the  field.  Better  men  than  Or- 
ton may  show  up." 

"Yates  may  break  his  own  record." 

"That  word  'may'  is  all  right,  but  it  can  be  applied 
both  ways.  He  may  not." 

"There's  Van  Tassle,"  said  Diamond.  "He  claims 
to  be  a  record-breaker." 

"A  record-breaker !"  sniffed  Griswold.  "Why,  that 
fellow  couldn't  break  an  egg!" 

"That's  right,"  nodded  Rattleton.  "He  breaks  rec- 
ords with  his  mouth.  Don't  talk  about  him." 

"Well,  there  are  others,"  laughed  Frank. 


336  Talk  of  a  Tour. 

"Name  a  few  of  them,"  invited  Browning,  witfi 
more  animation  than  he  had  displayed  for  some  time. 

"There's  Hickson." 

"He's  stiff  in  the  joints,  as  you  know." 

"Walter  Gordan." 

"He's  no  stayer.  That  fellow  can  run,  but  fie  Has 
Hot  the  sand  to  make  himself  a  winner." 

"He  thinks  himself  the  biggest  thing  on  ice,"  said 
Rattleton. 

"By  the  way,"  broke  in  Griswold,  "what  is  the  big- 
gest thing  on  ice?" 

"The  profit,"  promptly  answered  Stubbs,  and  then 
he  made  a  scramble  to  get  out  of  Griswold's  way. 

"It's  no  use,  I  can't  shine  when  that  chap  is  around  I" 
exclaimed  Danny,  with  attempted  seriousness.  "He 
has  an  answer  for  all  my  conundrums." 

"That  makes  me  think  of  one  for  you,"  piped  Binlc, 
who  was  now  perched  on  the  back  of  a  high  chair,  like 
a  monkey.  "Why  is  a  duel  a  quick  affair?" 

"Answer  it  yourself.    I'll  never  tell." 

"Well,  a  duel  is  a  quick  affair  because  it  takes  only 
two  seconds  to  arrange  it." 

"There  won't  be  a  duel  in  this  case,"  grunted  Brown- 


Talk  of  a  Tour.  337 

ing;  "but  there'll  be  a  cold-blooded  murder  if  you  kids 
keep  on.  I'll  assassinate  you  both!" 

Frank  laughed. 

"Oh,  let  them  go  it,  Bruce,"  he  said.  "It  seems  to 
amuse  thenij  and  it  doesn't  harm  anybody  else." 

"I  think  Browning  is  right  about  Yates,"  declared 
Diamond.  "He  is  not  the  proper  man  to  represent 
(Yale  in  that  race." 

"Whom  would  you  suggest?"  asked  Frank. 

"Frank  Merriwell,  by  all  means." 

"Now  that  is  folly!"  said  Merriwell,  seriously. 

"I  fail  to  see  why  it  is  folly,"  cried  Browning.  "You 
are  the  man  I  have  had  in  my  mind  all  along." 

"But  £«have  no  record." 

"To  the  winds  with  your  records!  What  we  want 
is  a  man  who  can  run.  He'll  make  a  record." 

"Why  do  you  think  I  can  run  ?" 

"I  have  seen  you  run,  and  I  have  heard  the  fellows 
tell  about  your  speed.  That  is  enough  in  your  case." 

Frank  shook  his  head. 

"It  is  not  enough,"  he  contradicted  "I  know  I  have 
i  record  as  a  base  runner  in  a  ball  game,  but  the  best 
base  runners  are  not  always  able  to  make  good  show- 


338  Talk  of  a  Tour. 

ings  in  races.  Besides  that,  base  running  is  dash  worie, 
and  this  is  a  case  of  running  a  mile.  There  is  a  vast 
difference." 

"That's  all  right,"  spluttered  Harry,  quickly.  "You 
can  mun  a  rile — I  mean  run  a  mile  with  the  best  of 
'em.  I've  seen  you  on  a  long  run." 

"When  was  that?" 

"When  we  had  that  turkey  chase.  You  led  us  all, 
and  it  didn't  bother  you  a  bit.  Then,  after  you  made 
the  run  out  into  the  country  and  back,  Pierson  got  after 
you  before  you  could  get  to  our  rooms.  You  ran 
away  from  hinij  and  held  on  to  the  turkey.  That  set- 
tled in  Pierson's  mind  that  you  could  hustle  along  all 
right,  and  it  had  something  to  do  with  his  giving  you 
a  place  for  a  trial  on  the  ball  team." 

"That  is  true,"  Frank  was  forced  to  confess. 

"Have  you  ever  been  in  any  races  ?"  asked  Diamond. 

"Oh,  I  took  part  in  some  races  when  I  was  at  Far- 
dale  Academy." 

"What  did  you  do  in  them?" 

"I  believe  I  won,  but  you  must  remember  that  I 
had  no  such  rivals  to  go  against  as  will  be  found  at 
the  tournament" 


Talk  of  a  Tour.  339 

"And  you  were  in  no  such  condition  as  you  are 
now.  Is  that  right?" 

Frank  was  forced  to  confess  that  it  was.  Then 
Browning  tried  to  pin  Frank  down  and  make  him  an- 
swer the  question  whether  he  did  not  have  confidence 
enough  in  himself  to  believe  he  could  race  Duncan, 
Yates  for  a  mile. 

"Of  course  I  could  race  him,"  smiled  Frank,  "but 
the  matter  of  winning  is  another  question." 

"Well,  I  believe  you  are  the  man  to  run  for  Yale  in 
that  race,"  said  Browning;  "and  I  am  going  to  use 
my  influence  to  see  that  you,  and  not  Yates,  are  en- 
tered. That  is  settled,  and  it  is  no  use  for  you  to  make 
any  objections." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

A  HOT  RUN. 

Soon  it  became  evident  that  Bruce  Browning  had  not 
lost  his  old-time  push  entirely.  When  there  was 
something  to  arouse  him,  he  could  bestir  himself  and 
get  to  work  in  a  marvelous  manner,  as  long  as  it  was 
not  necessary  for  him  to  again  go  into  training. 

Browning  knew  Paul  Pierson,  who  was  one  of  the 
committee  of  arrangements  for  the  coming  tournament, 
and  he  knew  that  Pierson  was  well  aware  of  Frank 
Merriwell's  general  ability.  Bruce  had  heard  Pierson 
express  a  belief  that  Merriwell  was  one  of  the  persons 
who,  by  sheer  determination  and  sand,  as  well  as  abil- 
ity, was  bound  to  win  in  almost  everything  he  at- 
tempted. 

Bruce  went  to  Pierson  immediately  after  leaving 
Merriwell's  room.  Pierson  was  one  of  the  sort  who 
seldom  said  much,  and  Browning  left  him  without 
knowing  whether  he  had  made  an  impression  or  not 


A  Hot  Run.  341 

Late  that  afternoon,  however,  Pierson  accidentally 
met  Frank,  who  was  crossing  the  campus. 

"I  say,  Merriwell,"  said  Paul,  in  his  abrupt  man- 
ner, "can  you  run?" 

"Some,"  answered  Frank,  sententiously. 

"Hum!"  grunted  Pierson. 

Then  he  looked  Frank  all  over,  as  if  he  had  never 
Seen  him  before  and  was  taking  his  physical  measure. 

"You  keep  yourself  in  the  very  best  condition  all  the 
timej  I  see,"  he  finally  observed. 

"Well,  I  seldom  do  anything  to  abuse  myself." 

"Are  you  in  training  for  a  race  ?" 

"Not  exactly." 

"How  long  would  it  take  for  you  to  put  yourself  in 
condition  ?" 

"Possibly  a  week." 

"What  are  you  good  for — a  short  dasfi,  oar  a  long 
run?" 

"I  think  I  can  do  either  fairly  well" 

"Fairly  well  does  not  go  at  Yale,  as  you  know, 
Merriwell.  You  must  do  things  exceptionally  well. 
You  are  altogether  too  modest.  If  something  had  not 
brought  you  out,  nobody  could  have  known  you  could 


342  A  Hot  Run. 

do  anything  at  all.  You  have  been  pushed  in  various 
ways  by  others,  but  you  fail  to  push  yourself." 

"Oh,  I  do  not  go  about  blowing  my  own  horn,"  said 
Frank,  smiling. 

"You  will  find  you'll  have  to  blow  your  own  horn 
when  you  go  into  business,  or  my  brother  is  a  liar.  He 
keeps  hammering  at  me  that  the  man  who  does  not 
blow  his  horn  is  the  fellow  who  gets  left.  To  a  large 
extent,  it  is  that  way  here  at  Yale.  The  fellow  who 
keeps  still  and  sits  back  gets  left.  That's  my  sermon. 
I'm  not  going  to  say  any  more  now.  Get  into  training 
for  a  long  run.  I'll  come  round  at  nine  this  evening 
and  go  you  a  sprint  of  a  mile  or  two,  just  to  see  how 
you  show  up." 

That  was  all.  Pierson  turned  and  sauntered  away, 
without  another  word. 

Frank  whistled  softly,  and  smiled. 

"This  is  Browning's  work,"  he  muttered.  "Pierson 
takes  things  for  granted.  How  does  he  know  I  will 
take  any  part  in  a  race?  He  does  not  ask  if  I  will,  but 
he  tells  me  to  go  to  work  and  get  into  shape.  He  is 
coming  round  tonight  to  see  how  I  show  up.  All 
right" 


A  Hot  Run.  343 

At  ten  minutes  of  nine  that  evening,  Paul  Pierson 
rapped  on  the  door  of  Merriwell's  room,  and  was  in- 
vited to  walk  in.  He  was  in  a  rig  for  running,  and 
he  immediately  said: 

"Come,  come!  get  out  of  those  duds,  MerriwelL 
You  are  to  run  with  me  to-night" 

"How  far?" 

"From  one  to  five  miles,  as  I  take  a  fancy." 

"Oh,  well,  I  won't  change  my  clothes  for  a  little 
thing  like  that,"  said  Frank,  carelessly. 

"You'd  better,"  declared  Paul.  "I'm  going  to  give 
you  a  hustle,  and  you'll  find  you  can  keep  up  better  if 
you  are  in  a  suitable  rig." 

"I'll  take  the  chances  of  keeping  just  as  I  am." 

Pierson's  teeth  came  together  with  a  click.  He  did 
not  like  that,  although  he  tried  not  to  show  it. 

"The  fellow  thinks  he  can  outrun  me  on  a  long  pullt 
as  he  happened  to  do  so  for  a  short  distance  once  on 
a  time,"  he  thought.  "I'll  see  if  I  can  fool  him." 

Pierson  considered  himself  an  excellent  long-distance 
runner,  although  he  seldom  took  part  in  races,  realiz- 
ing that,  good  though  he  was,  there  were  still  better 
men. 


344  A  Hot  Run. 

Frank  had  on  a  loose  thin  shirt,  and  a  light-weight 
suit  of  clothes.  He  caught  up  a  cap,  and  announced 
that  he  was  ready  to  go  with  Paul. 

They  went  out,  and  soon  were  crossing  the  campus. 
Having  arrived  at  a  point  quite  outside  the  college 
grounds,  Paul  paused  and  said: 

"We  will  start  from  here  and  make  a  run  out  into 
the  country.  I  will  set  the  pace  going  out,  but  when 
we  turn  to  come  back,  it  will  be  a  case  of  the  best  man 
gets  home  first.  The  termination  of  the  run  will  be 
your  room." 

"That  is  satisfactory,"  nodded  Frank. 

Far  away  a  band  of  jolly  students  were  singing 
"Stars  of  the  Summer  Night,"  their  melodious  voices 
making  sweet  music  beneath  the  great  elms.  The  soft 
breath  of  June  came  across  the  campus,  seeming  to 
gently  bear  the  words  of  the  beautiful  song  to  their 
sars. 

"Are  you  ready?"  asked  Pierson,  sharply. 

"All  ready." 

"Then  here  we  go." 

They  were  off,  shoulder  to  shoulder. 

Although  Frank  had  not  seemed  to  prepare  for  the 


A  Hot  Run.  345 

run,  he  had  put  on  his  running  shoes,  feeling  that  he 
might  absolutely  need  them. 

Along  the  streets  of  New  Haven  they  went,  at- 
tracting but  little  attention,  as  it  was  not  an  uncom- 
mon sight  at  that  season  to  see  some  of  the  college  lads 
taking  a  night  run  in  that  manner. 

They  passed  a  group  of  fellows  who  were  standing 
beneath  a  street  light  near  a  corner. 

"Here!"  softly  exclaimed  one  of  the  group;  "who 
are  these  chaps  ?" 

The  entire  party  turned  to  take  a  look  at  the  run- 
ners. 

"It's  Pierson " 

"AndMerriwell!" 

"What  did  I  tell  you,  Yates!"  exclaimed  Fred 
Flemming,  a  ring  of  satisfaction  in  his  voice, 

"Well,  may  I  be  kicked !"  growled  Duncan  Yates,  as 
He  started  after  the  two  lads,  who  had  passed  and  were 
scudding  along  the  street  at  a  steady  trot. 

"Flem  seldom  makes  a  mistake,"  murmured  Tom 
Thornton. 

"But  Merriwell  is  not  in  his  rig/'  said  Andy  Emery, 
the  fourth  one  of  the  group. 


346  A  Hot  Run. 

"That  doesn't  make  any  difference,"  declared  Flem- 
ming.  "He  is  taking  a  run  with  Pierson,  and  that 
proves  what  I  told  Yates.  You  all  know  how  that  chap 
undermined  me  on  the  crew.  I  don't  say  that  he  can't 
row,  mind  you — I  do  not  claim  that  I  could  have 
done  any  better  than  he  did ;  but  I  do  claim  that  he  is 
full  of  such  sneaking  underhand  tricks,  and  I  knew  he 
was  trying  for  something  when  I  saw  him  stop  Pierson 
on  the  campus  to-day." 

Yates  was  silent,  staring  along  the  street,  down 
which  the  two  runners  had  disappeared. 

"Come,  old  man!"  cried  Flemming,  slapping  Yatea 
on  the  back,  "let's  go  into  Morey's  and  sit  down,  where 
we  can  have  a  drink  and  talk  this  matter  over." 

Duncan  shook  his  head. 

"I  won't  go  in  there,"  he  said. 

"Why  not?" 

"I  am  in  training,  you  know,  and  somebody  would 
see  me  drinking  there.  That  would  kick  up  some 
talk." 

"Well,  will  you  go  anywhere?" 

"Yes,  I'll  go  somewhere  that  we  can  sit  down  in  a 
quiet  room,  where  there  is  no  chance  that  fellows  who 


A  Hot  Run.  347 

know  me  will  drop  in.  I  feel  just  like  having1  some- 
thing." 

"I  know  the  very  place,"  declared  Flemming.  "Come 
on." 

Then  the  quartet  moved  away,  Flemming  leading. 

In  the  meantime  Merriwell  and  Pierson  had  con- 
tinued on  their  way.  As  had  been  agreed,  Pierson  set 
the  pace.  At  first  he  ran  along  at  a  gentle  trot,  but 
by  the  time  the  outskirts  of  New  Haven  were  reached 
he  had  begun  to  increase  his  speed. 

"Now,"  he  thought,  "I'll  put  Merriwell  to  the  test, 
and  I  do  not  fancy  he  will  be  in  condition  to  make  a 
very  hot  run  on  the  return." 

Faster  and  faster  went  Paul,  and  still  the  lad  at  his 
side  kept  there  with  apparent  ease.  With  their  clinched 
hands  held  close  to  their  breasts  and  their  heads  thrown 
back,  they  ran  on  and  on. 

There  was  a  slice  of  a  moon  in  the  western  sky,  shed- 
ding a  thin  white  light  over  the  world.  From  far  to 
the  south  came  the  shrill  whistle  of  a  locomotive,  cut- 
ting through  the  air  like  a  keen  knife. 

iThe  road  which  Pierson  had  selected  was  one  overt 


348  A  Hot  Run. 

which  there  was  considerate  travel,  and  it  was  in  very 
fair  condition. 

Without  appearing  to  do  so,  Paul  slyly  kept  watch 
of  Merriwell,  wishing  to  see  just  how  Frank  stood  the 
strain.  He  was  forced  to  acknowledge  that,  for  a 
time  at  least,  Merriwell  was  standing  it  very  well. 

"Oh,  he  is  endeavoring  to  show  me  how  easy  he  can 
do  it!"  mentally  exclaimed  Paul.  "Wait — wait  a  bit! 
I  think  I  will  give  him  a  hot  push  for  a  bit." 

Faster  and  faster  ran  Pierson,  and  soon  he  was 
rather  gratified  to  hear  Frank  beginning  to  breathe 
heavily.  Yes,  although  Paul  had  hoped  that  Merri- 
well would  show  up  well,  he  did  feel  a  momentary  sense 
of  satisfaction  when  it  seemed  that  he  was  making  the 
pace  a  hot  one  for  his  companion. 

Then  Frank  began  to  lag.  He  did  not  fall  far  be- 
hind Paul,  and  still  he  seemed  unable  to  keep  his  place 
at  Pierson's  side. 

"I  won't  do  a  thing  to  him  coming  back !"  decided 
Paul.  "Browning  was  dead  wrong.  The  fellow  is 
capable  of  short  dashes,  but  he  is  not  the  man  for  a 
long  run.  I  am  rather  sorry." 

At  last,  he  decided  that  they  had  gone  far  enough 


A  Hot  Run.  349 

into  the  country,  and  so  he  turned  about,  without  stop- 
ping, calling  to  Frank : 

"Now  for  the  hustle  into  town,  and  let's  see  what 
you  are  made  of,  my  boy.  I  am  going  to  run  away 
from  you  as  if  you  were  standing  still." 

"I  wouldn't  do  that!"  flung  back  Merriwell,  as  he 
wheeled  about 

Somehow  it  seemed  to  Paul  that  there  was  a  toucfi 
of  sarcasm  in  the  way  Frank  uttered  the  words.  That 
aroused  the  committeeman  still  more,  and  he  retorted : 

"No,  you  wouldn't  do  it,  because  you  couldn't;  but 
I  am  going  to." 

"All  right,"  laughed  Frank.  "I  don't  suppose  there 
is  any  danger  that  somebody  will  steal  me  for  my 
beauty  if  you  leave  me  alone  out  here  in  the  country. 
iGo  ahead  and  run  away  from  me." 

"Good-by." 

"Good-by." 

Then  Pierson  did  run.  He  skimmed  over  the 
ground  in  a  wonderful  manner,  but  the  sound  of  run- 
ning feet  clung  close  behind  him,  and,  when  he  glanced 
over  his  shoulder,  Merriwell  was  still  there. 


350  A  Hot  Run. 

"Hanged  if  he  doesn't  hold  on  well!"  mentally  ex- 
claimed Paul. 

Then,  as  he  glanced  around,  it  began  to  seem  that 
Merriwell  was  running  with  still  greater  ease  than  he 
had  at  any  previous  time.  Somehow  it  appeared  as  if 
he  was  keeping  close  behind  Pierson  without  any  par- 
ticular effort. 

"You're  doing  well,"  Paul  finally  flung  over  his 
shoulder.  "Can  you  keep  it  up?" 

"I  think  so,"  was  the  half-laughing  answer.  "I  am 
holding  myself  in  so  that  I  can  make  an  attempt  to  fol- 
low you  a  short  distance  when  you  get  ready  to  run 
away  from  me." 

"Great  smoke!"  thought  Paul.  "Is  he  guying  me? 
or  does  he  fancy  I  have  not  been  doing  my  best?" 

After  a  little,  he  confessed : 

"I  am  beginning  to  think  that  won't  be  an  easy  trick, 
Merriwell.  You  will  not  be  far  behind  when  we  reach 
your  room." 

At  this,  Frank  suddenly  came  up  beside  Paul. 

"Judging  by  the  way  you  talk,  you  are  somewhat 
out  of  wind,"  he  said. 

"Not  at  all/'  declared  Pierson, 


A  Hot  Run.  351 

"Then  I  presume  you  are  in  condition  for  a  little 
dash?" 

"Oh,  of  course!  But  you  may  beat  yourself  out  if 
you  crowd  yourself  too  hard." 

"Think  so?" 

"Sure.     Better  not." 

"Oh,  I  think  I'll  chance  it  Come  on,  old  man,  let's 
tear  up  some  dust." 

Then  Frank  spurted. 

Pierson  set  his  teeth  and  made  a  desperate  effort  to 
keep  up,  but,  despite  his  determination  not  to  fall  be- 
hind, he  found  that  Merriwell  was  steadily  and  surely 
drawing  away. 

"Come  on,"  called  Frank,  in  a  rather  tantalizing 
manner.  "It  can't  be  that  you  are  going  to  let  me  run 
away  from  you?" 

Paul  did  not  answer. 

"What's  the  matter  ?"  called  Frank  again.  "Are  yoa 
ill?" 

Still  no  answer. 

"Well,  you  are  not  sociable  at  all,"  laughed  the  lad 
in  advance,  tauntingly.  "I  don't  seem  to  like  your 


A  Hot  Run. 

company,  and  so  I  think  I  will  move  along.  Good- 
by." 

With  thatj  Pierson  could  see  that  the  tantalizing 
fellow  actually  made  an  increase  of  speed. 

"Confound  him!"  grated  Paul.  "I  believe  he  was 
fooling  me  all  along  when  he  seemed  to  be  having  a 
hard  time  to  keep  up.  All  that  panting  and  heavy 
breathing  was  put  on." 

It  was  decidedly  humiliating  to  be  "jollied"  in  such 
a  manner;  but  Paul  found  he  could  not  hold  his  own 
with  Frank,  and  he  finally  gave  up  the  struggle.  Still 
he  continued  to  run  on,  thinking  that  the  lad  ahead 
would  use  up  his  wind  by  such  a  burst  of  speed,  and  be- 
lieving there  was  a  possibility  of  overtaking  Merriwell 
before  South  Middle  was  reached. 

This  did  not  happen,  however,  and  when  Paul  burst 
Into  Frank's  room,  he  found  Rattleton  there,  listening 
to  a  funny  story  that  Merriwell  was  telling. 

And  Merriwell?  He  had  his  feet  resting  comfort- 
ably on  the  top  of  a  table,  while  he  lay  back  in  an  easy- 
chair,  looking  remarkably  cool,  as  if  -he  had  not  lately 
made  a  run  of  several  miles. 


A  Hot  Run.  353 

More  than  that,  he  had  changed  his  clothes,  as  the 
suit  he  had  on  was  not  the  same  he  had  worn  during 
the  run ! 

Paul  staggered  in,  and  dropped  limply  on  the  couch, 
staring  at  Frank,  as  if  he  saw  a  ghost. 

"Look — here — Merriwell,"  he  panted,  "what — are — '• 
you — made — of  ?  Are — you — run — by — steam  ?' ' 

"Oh,  no!"  laughed  Frank.  "I  beg  your  pardon  for 
leaving  you  in  such  a  manner,  but  you  know  you  had 
become  so  very  unsociable  that  I  had  to  do " 

Pierson  made  a  weak  gesture,  and  interrupted  with : 

"Don't  apologize  for  that — it  was  the  agreement 
that  one  should  run  away  from  the  other,  if  possible, 
on  the  way  back.  You  had  a  right  to  do  it." 

"What  is  all  this  about?"  asked  Rattleton,  in  a  mys- 
tified manner.  "What  have  you  fellows  been  doing?" 

"Don't  you  know?"  cried  Paul,  amazed. 

"No,  I  don't  know,"  declared  Rattleton.  "Frank 
walked  into  the  room  a  short  time  ago,  went  into  his 
bedroom,  took  a  sponge  bath  and  changed  his  clothes, 
and  we  have  been  telling  stories  since  then." 

"Took  a  sponge  bath?"  shouted  Pierson,  popping 


354  A  Hot  Run. 

bolt  upright.  "Jerusalem.  You  talk  as  if  he  had  been 
here  half  an  hour!  I  will  admit  that  this  beats  any- 
thing I  ever  experienced!" 

Then  he  flopped  down  on  the  couch  again^  as  if  ut- 
terly overcome. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

AN     INCENTIVE    TO     WIN. 

Paul  Pierson  had  made  a  discovery  that  night,  and, 
before  he  left,  he  told  Frank  Merriwell  to  put  himself 
into  condition  to  enter  one  of  the  races  at  the  Madison 
Square  Garden  tournament  in  New  York. 

"You  seem  to  be  in  pretty  good  condition  now,"  he 
said,  with  a  grim  smile;  "but  you  know  whether  you 
can  improve  your  condition  or  not.  If  you  can,  do  it, 
for  you  are  liable  to  be  pitted  against  men  who  will 
give  you  a  decidedly  hotter  time  than  you  have  ever 
struck." 

"All  right,"  said  Frank,  quietly.  "You'll  find  that 
I  shall  be  in  shape,  and  I'll  do  my  best  to  be  a  credit 
to  Old  Yale." 

"You  have  been  a  credit  to  Yale  ever  since  the  day 
you  entered  college,"  said  Pierson,  sincerely.  "To- 
night has  settled  one  thing  in  my  mind.  I  believe  you 
are  a  wonder  in  almost  anything  in  the  way  of  ath- 
letics." 


356  An  Incentive  to  Win. 

"Oh,  not  a  wonder !"  said  Frank.  "But  you  can  be 
sure  that  I  am  bound  to  do  my  level  best  in  anything 
I  attempt." 

"I  know  it !  I  am  not  sure  I'll  be  able  to  get  you  on, 
but  I  am  going  to  try  to  run  you  into  the  one-mile 
race.  We  have  some  men  for  the  shorter  dashes,  but 
do  not  seem  to  have  but  one  man  besides  yourself  who 
can  be  considered  for  the  mile  run.  He  has  been  in 
training  for  some  time,  and  the  committee  had  nearly 
decided  on  him.  Now  I  am  satisfied  that  you  are  the 
better  man,  but  I'll  have  to  satisfy  the  others." 

"I  want  you  to  bear  witness  that  I  have  not  worked 
to  fill  the  place  of  any  other  fellow." 

"It  might  be  better  for  Yale  if  you  would  work  for 
such  things,"  growled  Pierson.  "You  will  not  find 
other  fellows  holding  back.  If  any  chap  is  capable  of 
filling  your  place  at  anything,  you  may  be  sure  he  will 
fill  it,  and  he'll  never  stop  to  consider  your  feelings 
about  the  matter." 

"That  is  rust  jite — I  mean  just  right!"  cried  Rattle- 
ton,  approvingly. 

"Well,  I  am  going  to  my  rooms  and  take  a  rub 
down,"  said  Paul.  "Good-night,  fellows." 


An  Incentive  to  Win.  357 

"Good-night,  Mr.  Pierson." 

When  the  door  had  closed  behind  Paul,  Rattleton  ex- 
ecuted a  grotesque  dance  on  the  carpet. 

"Whoop!"  he  softly  cried.  "Didn't  I  knock  him 
silly  when  I  pretended  not  to  know  anything  about  the 
run  this  evening!  Oh,  wheejiz — er,  jeewhiz !  he  nearly 
fainted  when  I  told  him  you  calmly  walked  into  the 
roonij  took  a  sponge  bath,  put  on  another  suit,  and  then 
we  had  been  telling  stories." 

"You  rascal!"  cried  Frank,  laughing  and  giving 
Harry  a  shake.  "That  was  all  your  own  work.  I 
didn't  know  you  were  thinking  of  running  such  a  bluff 
on  him." 

"Never  thought  of  it  myself  till  he  came  in," 
chuckled  Harry.  "Between  us  we  managed  to  get  you 
out  of  your  other  clothes,  give  you  a  quick  rub,  and 
jump  you  into  a  fresh  suit  before  Pierson  showed  up." 

"It  has  been  a  very  enjoyable  evening,"  smiled 
Frank,  as  he  again  deposited  himself  on  the  easy-chair. 
"If  I  had  planned  to  have  sport  with  Pierson,  I  could 
not  have  worked  it  better.  You  should  have  heard 
me  panting  and  puffing  along  behind  him  on  our  way 
out !  You  should  have  heard  him  bidding  me  good-by 


358  An  Incentive  to  Win. 

when  we  started  to  come  back !  And  then  you  should 
have  heard  me  asking  him  if  he  was  ill  when  I  got 
ready  to  leave  him!" 

Harry  laughed  in  the  heartiest  manner,  as  his  imagi- 
nation supplied  the  picture. 

"It  is  too  good!"  he  cried.  "And  you  will  go  into 
the  mile  run  sure !  Browning  caused  Pierson  to  tackle 
you." 

"It  seems  that  I  have  done  pretty  well  in  athletic 
matters  this  spring,"  said  Frank,  "and  I  was  rather  in- 
different concerning  the  matter  of  taking  any  promi- 
nent part  in  the  tournament  at  Madison  Square.  How- 
ever, if  I  can  do  anything  to  uphold  the  standard  of 
Old  Eli,  I  want  to  do  my  best." 

"Frank,  if  you  run  in  that  race,  you  will  win,"  came 
soberly  from  Harry's  lips.  "I  shall  stake  every  dollar 
I  can  rake  on  you.  If  you  do  win,  I'll  have  enough 
cash  to  take  me  through  the  summer  vacation  we  have 
planned." 

The  door  had  been  softly  opened,  and  the  most  of 
Rattleton's  speech  was  overheard  by  a  third  person, 
who  now  exclaimed : 

"And  I'm  going  to  bank  my  cash  on  you,  Merri- 


An  Incentive  to  Win.  359 

well!  If  you  win,  I'll — I'll — why,  hang  me!  I'll 
make  that  trip  across  the  continent  with  you !" 

It  was  Bruce  Browning,  who  advanced  into  the 
room. 

"Are  you  in  earnest  about  that,  Bruce?"  asked 
Frank. 

"You  bet  I  am  in  earnest!"  was  the  assurance. 

"You  will  try  to  pump  a  bicycle  from  New  York  to 
San  Francisco?" 

"Try  it!  Confound  it!  I  tell  you  I'll  do  it  if  you 
win  the  mile  run  for  Old  Yale!" 

"Then,"  said  Frank,  "I  have  a  double  object  to  work 
for,  and  I  am  going  to  win  if  it  is  in  my  body  to  do 
so!" 

Rattleton  was  astonished  to  see  Browning  show  so 
much  animation. 

"Why,  you  actually  appear  like  your  old  self!"  he 
exclaimed. 

Bruce  sat  down. 

"Tell  me  about  it/'  he  invited,  speaking  to  Frank. 
"Some  of  the  fellows  said  they  saw  you  and  Pierson 
chasing  yourselves,  and  I  caught  what  Rattleton  was 
saying  just  as  I  came  in." 


360  An  Incentive  to  Win. 

Frank  told  Bruce  all  about  the  night  run,  and  a  lazy 
smile  spread  over  the  fat  lad's  round  face  as  he  listened. 

"That's  one  on  Pierson !"  he  exclaimed.  "He  thinks 
he  is  unequalled  when  it  comes  to  a  long-distance  run, 
and  I'll  wager  something  that  you  have  fixed  him  so 
he  will  fight  to  get  you  into  that  race.  I  can  see  him 
bidding  you  farewell !  Ha !  ha !  ha !  And  then  I  can 
see  him  when  you  took  your  turn!  Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

Bruce  laughed  in  a  hearty  manner,  and,  for  some 
time  they  talked  over  the  events  of  the  evening. 

"What  sort  of  a  fellow  is  Yates?"  asked  Frank. 
"I've  never  met  him  to  have  a  talk  with  him." 

"Oh,  he  isn't  half  bad,"  answered  Bruce,  in  a  some- 
what noncommittal  manner. 

"I  presume  he  will  feel  injured  if  I  am  chosen  to 
run,  instead  of  him?" 

"What  if  he  does  ?    That's  none  of  your  business." 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

THE  RUN  TO  THE  STATION. 

The  final  ball  game  of  the  series  between  Harvard 
and  Yale  was  to  take  place  at  Springfield.  The  day  of 
the  game  arrived,  and  there  was  an  exodus  from  Yale. 

There  was  a  rush  for  the  last  train  by  which  the 
college  lads  could  reach  Springfield  in  time  to  witness 
the  whole  of  the  game. 

On  their  way  to  the  station,  Frank  and  Harry  fell  in 
with  Jack  Diamond  and  Danny  Griswold. 

"We've  got  to  hurry,"  said  Diamond,  glancing  at  his 
watch.  "There  is  no  time  to  waste  if  we  want  to 
catch  the  train." 

They  soon  overtook  Flemming,  Emery  and  Yates. 
These  fellows  were  in  the  company  of  several  other 
lads,  among  whom  were  two  of  the  committee  of  ar- 
rangements for  the  tournament. 

"You  fellows  seem  to  be  in  a  great  rush,"  one  of  the 
party  called  to  Frank  and  his  friends. 


362  The  Run  to  the  Station. 

"You  had  better  rush  a  little,  if  you  want  to  catch 
the  train,"  flung  back  Griswold. 

"Ah!"  said  Andy  Emery,  with  an  undisguised 
sneer ;  "it's  Merriwell  and  his  trainers.  They  are  put- 
ting him  in  condition  to  beat  the  field  in  that  race  he 
expects  to  enter." 

"Go  him  to  the  station,  Yates!"  exclaimed  one  of 
the  lads  accompanying  Duncan.  "Just  show  him  he 
doesn't  know  how  to  run." 

"Yah!"  flung  back  Griswold,  quick  as  a  flash. 
"Yates  knows  better  than  to  try  that.  Where  would 
he  be  when  Merriwell  reached  the  station?" 

"Buying  his  ticket  inside,"  sneered  Emery,  in  re- 
turn. 

That  aroused  Jack  Diamond,  who  flushed  hotly  and 
turned  on  Andy. 

"I'll  go  you  ten  even  that  Merriwell  beats  Yates  to 
the  station  platform,"  he  flashed,  producing  a  roll  of 
bills.  "This  is  business!  Take  me  if  you  have  the 
nerve!" 

"Oh,  I'll  take  you!"  cried  Emery;  "and,  when  the 
business  is  over,  I'll  take  your  money,  too." 

He  promptly  produced  a  ten-dollar  bill,  and    the 


The  Run  to  the  Station.  363 

money  was  quickly  thrust  into  the  hands  of  a  stake- 
holder, who  was  chosen  by  mutual  agreement. 

"It  strikes  me  you  men  are  pretty  swift,"  said  Yates, 
in  a  manner  that  showed  his  disapproval.  "How  do 
you  know  I  will  run?" 

"  'Sh !"  warned  Flemming.  "You'll  have  to  run 
now,  or  they'll  say  you  were  afraid  to  go  against  Merri- 
well." 

It  was  plain  that  Yates  did  not  feel  at  all  pleased 
by  the  situation,  but  he  said : 

"If  I  must  run,  I  will,  and  I'll  beat  the  fellow,  but 
I  don't  care  about  getting  into  a  sweat  just  now." 

"Never  mind  that,"  said  Emery,  in  Yates'  ear.  "If 
you  beat  Merriwell  to  the  station,  it  is  pretty  sure  that 
you  spoil  his  show  for  getting  into  the  mile  run.  This 
is  your  chance  to  do  that  little  job,  so  don't  let  it 
slip." 

Frank  had  said  very  little.  It  was  not  easy  to  tell 
if  he  felt  satisfied  or  displeased  over  the  situation. 

The  party  turned  a  cornet^  and  came  in  view  of  the 
station. 

"Here  is  a  good  starting  point,"  said  Emery.  "Does 
it  satisfy  you,  Diamond?" 


364  The  Run  to  the  Station. 

"Perfectly,"  bowed  Jack. 

"Then  that's  all  right.  Are  you  going  to  run,  fel- 
lows?" 

"I  leave  that  entirely  to  Mr.  Yates,"  said  Frank, 
quietly. 

"Oh,  I'll  go  you — and  I'll  do  you !"  exclaimed  Yates, 
as  he  tore  off  both  coat  and  vest  and  flung  them  at 
Flemming,  who  caught  them. 

That  started  Rattleton,  who  excitedly  cried : 

"I'll  tet  you  ben  dollars — I  mean  I'll  bet  you  ten 
dollars  you  don't  do  it !" 

Yates  paid  no  attention  to  this,  but  Flemming  said : 

"I'll  have  to  go  you,  Rattleton.    Put  up  the  tenner." 

The  money  was  quickly  posted,  and  then  the  rivals 
stood  side  by  side,  with  their  coats  and  vests  removed, 
ready  for  the  word. 

Merriwell  seemed  quiet  and  indifferent,  as  if  it  were 
an  event  of  no  particular  moment ;  while  on  Yates'  face 
there  was  a  look  that  plainly  showed  he  was  determined 
to  settle  all  dispute  by  winning  the  dash  to  the  station. 

One  of  the  committee  had  been  chosen  to  give  the 
word,  and  he  stepped  out,  sharply  calling : 

"Ready!" 


The  Run  to  the  Station.  365 

The  lads  leaned  forward  over  the  scratch  in  the  dirt, 
which  had  been  drawn  by  somebody's  heel. 

"Go!" 

Away  shot  the  rivals  like  leaping  fawns.  They 
seemed  like  two  foxes,  and  the  crowd  of  lads  who 
broke  away  in  pursuit  resembled  a  pack  of  hounds. 

It  was  a  hot  dash,  and,  for  some  time,  the  boys  were 
running  side  by  side,  neither  seeming  to  have  an  ad- 
vantage. 

"Wait  a  bit,"  panted  Emery,  at  Diamond's  side; 
"you'll  soon  see  Yates  spurt  and  leave  Merriwell." 

"What  do  you  think  Merriwell  will  be  doing  while 
Yates  is  spurting?"  asked  Jack,  sarcastically. 

"He'll  seem  to  be  standing  still." 

"Will  he?    Wait  and  see!" 

The  rivals  were  drawing  near  the  station,  and  still 
it  seemed  that  they  were  keeping  side  by  side. 

"Now  they  are  spurting!" 

Yes,  they  were  spurting  for  the  finish,  but,  to  the 
amazement  of  Yates'  friends,  a  single  bound  had 
seemed  to  carry  Frank  Merriwell  two  yards  in  ad- 
vance of  the  other  runner,  and  this  advantage  Merri- 
well maintained. 


366  The  Run  to  the  Station. 

In  another  moment  the  station  would  be  reached, 
and  the  race  must  end.  Seeing  this,  Andy  Emery  was 
bitterly  grinding  out  an  exclamation  of  rage  and  dis- 
gust. 

Suddenly  Yates  seemed  to  trip  and  fall  heavily.  He 
tried  to  spring  up,  but  seemed  to  be  hurt,  and  he  was 
struggling  to  rise  when  Flemming  reached  the  spot 
and  lifted  him  to  his  feet. 

"Are  you  hurt?"  asked  several,  as  they  gathered 
around  Duncan. 

"Not  much,"  he  answered,  rather  thickly;  "but  I 
lost  the  dash  by  that  fall." 

"Rats!"  muttered  Harry  Rattleton.  "He  had  lost 
it  before  he  fell." 

"I  was  ready  to  make  the  final  spurt,  which  would 
have  carried  me  ahead  of  Merriwell  at  the  finish,"  de- 
clared Yates. 

"Oh,  it  is  a  case  of  beastly  luck!"  growled  Andy 
Emery.  "It  is  the  way  everything  turns  in  Merri- 
well's  favor.  He  never  wins  except  it  is  by  cold 
luck." 

"Oh,  come  off!"  chirped  Danny  Griswold.  "You're 
sore,  that's  all  ails  you!" 


The  Run  to  the  Station.  367 

"Shut  up,  or  I'll  wring  your  neck!" 

"You  can't  catch  me,  you  know/'  taunted  the  little 
fellow,  as  he  skipped  out  of  reach. 

On  the  station  platform  Merriwell  was  quietly  wait- 
ing the  arrival  of  the  others,  fanning  himself  with  his 
handkerchief. 

It  happened  that  Bruce  Browning  was  at  the  station, 
and  he  had  seen  the  race  between  the  rivals.  In  his 
ponderous  manner,  he  hurried  to  congratulate  Frank. 

"Yates  was  a  fool  to  try  it!"  declared  Bruce,  his 
round  face  seeming  to  expand  into  one  broad  grin. 
"He  might  have  known  what  would  happen.  I  see 
Crockett  and  Gibbs,  two  of  the  committee,  with  the 
fellows.  They  witnessed  the  whole  business,  and  it 
must  have  settled  matters  in  their  minds." 

"I  wish  Yates  had  not  fallen,"  said  Frank,  with 
regret. 

"He  did  not  fall  accidentally,  and  you  can  bet  your 
greasy  coin  on  that!  It  was  plain  enough. 

"Then  you  think — just  what?" 

"That  he  saw  he  was  beaten,  and  fell  so  that  he 
might  make  a  claim  that  you  outran  him  by  accident." 

"I  had  the  lead." 


368  The  Run  to  the  Station. 

"Yes,  and  he  could  not  have  recovered  and  over- 
taken you  in  a  week!  But  that  makes  no  difference. 
Alice  samee,  I  rather  fancy  Yates  will  not  fool  any- 
body very  much." 

The  knot  of  fellows  now  approached  the  station, 
where  there  was  a  great  throng  of  Yale  lads  who  had 
seen  the  race. 

Yates  was  very  pale,  but  there  was  a  burning  light 
in  his  eyes.  He  advanced  straight  to  Frank,  and  dis- 
tinctly said: 

"Mr.  Merriwell,  you  beat  me  this  time  through  an 
accident;  but  I  will  run  you  again,  and  I'll  win." 

Frank  bowed  with  the  utmost  courtesy. 

"Mr.  Yates,"  he  said,  "you  will  find  me  willing  and 
ready  to  run  with  you  any  time." 

"Whoopee!"  squealed  Danny  Griswold,  turning  a 
handspring.  "That's  business  straight  from  head- 
quarters !" 

"Here  comes  the  train !"  was  the  cry. 

Then  there  was  a  scramble  for  tickets  and  for  seats 
on  the  train. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

ENEMIES     AT      WORK. 

It  happened  that  Merriwell  and  his  friends  entered 
the  smoker.  They  found  Bink  Stubbs  curled  up  in  a 
corner,  puffing  away  at  a  cigarette. 

"You  seem  to  be  well  fixed,  Stubbs,"  said  Frank. 

And  the  little  fellow  cheerfully  returned : 

"Oh,  I've  got  a  snap,  as  the  bear  said  when  he 
stepped  into  the  steel  trap." 

Then  room  was  made  for  a  jolly  little  party  in  the 
corner,  and  all  the  fellows  who  smoked  lighted  up 
cigarettes  or  cigars. 

"I've  got  ten  more  to  put  on  the  game  to-day," 
cried  Rattleton,  gleefully.  "And  I  took  it  out  of 
Flemming.  That  is  what  pleases  me  the  most." 

Jack  Diamond  smiled. 

"It  pleases  me  to  say  that  I  pulled  a  sawbuck  out 
of  Emery,"  he  said.  "He  squirmed  a  little,  but  it  was 
too  late  to  squeal." 

"We'll  all  come  back  with  our  clothes  stuffed  with 


370  Enemies  at  Work. 

money,"  declared  Browning.  "Yale  is  sure  to  win 
to-day,  and  that  will  put  lots  of  fellows  on  their 
feet.  Some  of  the  boys  have  soaked  everything  they 
could  rake  together  to  get  money  to  put  on  the  game, 
for  Heffiner's  arm  is  in  great  form,  and  he  says  he 
will  make  monkeys  of  the  Harvard  Willies." 

"Speaking  about  hocking  things,"  said  Bandy  Rob- 
inson, "I  let  my  unc.  have  a  dozen  white  shirts,  among 
other  things.  If  Yale  doesn't  win,  I  won't  have  a  shirt 
to  my  name." 

"That's  nothing,"  declared  Ben  Halliday,  noncha- 
lantly, as  he  blew  out  a  big  whiff  of  smoke.  "I've 
soaked  my  entire  wardrobe,  save  what  I  have  on  my 
back.  But  Willis  Paulding  did  the  slickest  trick  to 
raise  the  wind." 

"Paulding?"  cried  Diamond.  "I'd  never  dreamed 
he  could  do  anything  very  smooth." 

"He  did,  just  the  same.  Last  year,  when  Merry 
pitched  the  deciding  game  of  the  series,  Paulding  felt 
sure  Harvard  would  win,  and  he  stuck  on  'em  every 
last  rag  of  money  he  could  rake  and  scrape.  Well, 
Yale  won,  and  Willis  was  busted.  He  was  forced  to 
tell  his  old  man  the  whole  truth  before  he  could  get 


Enemies  at  Work.  371 

money  enough  to  let  him  out  of  New  Haven  for  the 
summer.  More  than  that,  the  old  man  has  taken  pre- 
cautions to  prevent  Willis  from  having  any  money  to 
waste  in  betting  this  year.  He  has  all  of  Willis'  bills 
sent  to  him  to  settle,  and  keeps  his  son  horribly  short 
of  filthy.  Just  as  hard,  Willis  found  out  that  the  gov- 
ernor had  told  his  tailor  to  make  the  boy  all  the  clothes 
he  wanted.  That  was  enough.  Willis  ordered  six 
suits  at  fifty  dollars  each,  and  he  soaked  every  one  of 
them  at  ten  each  as  soon  as  he  got  them.  So  you  see 
Paulding  is  provided  with  plenty  of  coin  for  this  little 
racket,  and  he  says  he  is  going  to  put  every  red  he 
has  on  Old  Yale.  Last  year  cured  him  of  Getting 
against  his  own  colors." 

"If  Willis  thought  of  that  scheme  himself,  he  has 
more  brains  in  his  head  than  I  fancied,"  smiled  Dia- 
mond. 

"Tell  you  how  I  made  a  strike/'  chirped  Danny 
Griswold.  "You  know  I've  been  writing  a  few  things 
and  giving  them  away  to  the  papers.  Well,  the  gov- 
ernor heard  of  it,  and  he  decided  I  was  making  a  fool 
of  myself,  so  he  sat  down  and  fired  a  shot  at  me.  He 
called  my  attention  to  the  fact  that  Johnson  said  the 


372  Enemies  at  Work. 

man  who  writes  for  anything  but  money  is  a  fool. 
This  is  the  way  I  answered:  'Dear  Gov:  I  observe 
you  say  some  chap  by  the  name  of  Johnson  says  the 
man  who  writes  for  anything  but  money  is  a  fool.  I 
quite  agree  with  Mr.  Johnson.  Please  send  me  one 
hundred  dollars.  That  must  have  hit  the  old  boy  about 
right,  for  he  sent  me  fifty." 

Danny  ended  with  a  gleeful  chuckle,  and  the  listen- 
ing lads  laughed. 

"That's  pretty  good — for  you,"  nodded  Bink  Stubbs ; 
"but  speaking  about  clothes  reminds  me  that  I  had  a 
little  lunch  in  a  restaurant  last  evening,  and  I  found 
a  button  in  the  salad.  I  called  the  waiter's  attention 
to  it,  and  he  calmly  said,  'That's  all  right,  sir ;  it's  part 
of  the  dressing.' ' 

"Now  he  has  broken  loose!"  cried  Danny  Griswold. 
"There  is  no  telling  what  sort  of  a  rusty  old  gag  he'll 
try  to  spring.  If  we  only  had  a  few  stale  eggs  for 
him!" 

Bink  grinned,  as  he  observed : 

"There's  nothing  like  poached  eggs,  as  the  nigger 
said  when  he  robbed  the  hencoop." 

Diamond  proposed  a  song,  and  soon  the  boys  were 


Enemies  at  Work.  373 

at  it.  When  they  had  finished  one  song,  Browning 
soberly  observed: 

"It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  one  song  which  would 
be  particularly  appropriate  for  this  season  when  all  of 
us  are  soaking  something  in  order  to  raise  the  wind." 

"What  is  it?"  shouted  several  voices. 

"Solomon  Levi." 

In  another  moment  the  merry  lads  were  shouting : 

"My  name  is  Solomon  Levi,  my  store's  on  Salem  Street ; 
That's  where  you  buy  your  coats  and  vests  and  everything  that's 

neat. 

I've  second-handed  ulsterettes,  and  everything  that's  fine, 
For  all  the  boys  they  trade  with  me  at  a  hundred  and  forty-nine. 

CHORUS  : 

"Oh,  Solomon  Levi!  tra,  la,  la,  la! 
Poor  Sheeny  Levi !  tra,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la ! 

"And  if  a  bummer  comes  along  to  my  store  on  Salem  Street 
And  tries  to  hang  me  up  for  coats  and  vests  so  very  neat, 
I  kick  that  bummer  right  out  of  my  store,  and  on  him  sets  my 

pup, 
For  I  won't  sell  clothing  to  any  man  who  tries  to  hang  me  up." 

Thus  the  rollicking  lads  spent  the  time  as  the  train   - 
rolled  along  bearing  them  to  witness  the  great  ball 
game  of  the  season  with  Harvard. 

Again  and  again  Frank  Merriwell's  friends  ex- 
pressed regret  because  his  hand,  on  which  there  had 
been  a  felon,  prevented  him  from  taking  part  in  the 


374  Enemies  at  Work. 

game.  They  could  not  forget  that  he  had  pitched  the 
deciding  game  between  Yale  and  Harvard  the  previous 
year,  and  had  won  it. 

Frank  had  also  done  some  good  work  during  the 
present  season,  and  sporting  papers  all  over  the  country 
had  declared  that  he  was  one  of  the  very  best  college 
"twirlers." 

This,  however,  was  Hugh  Heffiner's  last  year  at 
Yale,  and,  without  doubt,  the  coming  game  was  the 
last  he  would  ever  pitch  for  "Old  Eli." 

Until  Merriwell  appeared,  Heffinger  had  been  Yale's 
mainstay  in  the  box,  and  his  admirers  declared  that  it 
was  pretty  sure  that  a  long  time  would  elapse  before 
he  would  have  a  worthy  successor. 

But  Heffinger  was  overworked,  and  he  came  near 
throwing  his  arm  out.  As  it  was,  he  strained  his 
arm  so  that  he  was  utterly  unable  to  pitch  at  all. 

Then  it  was  that  it  was  found  necessary  to  find  some- 
body to  assist  the  "change  pitcher,"  Dad  Hicks,  in  his 
work. 

Hicks  was  good  for  four  or  five  innings,  but  he  was 
unable  to  keep  up  the  strain  through  an  entire  game. 

Paul  Pierson,  captain  and  manager  of  the  Yale  nine, 


Enemies  at  Work.  375 

had  seen  Merriwell  do  some  pitching  for  the  fresh- 
men, and  he  resolved  to  give  Frank  a  trial. 

Pierson's  judgment  was  not  at  fault,  and  Merri- 
well quickly  proved  that  he  was  worthy  to  become 
Heffiner's  successor. 

Of  course  there  was  much  regret  because  Frank 
could  not  be  on  the  bench,  at  least,  ready  to  go  into 
the  game  if  needed;  but  all  seemed  to  feel  confident 
that  Heffiner  would  make  his  last  game  for  Yale  a 
hot  one.  He  had  done  some  marvelous  work,  and,  as 
he  declared  himself  in  prime  condition,  there  was  no 
reason  why  he  should  not  hold  Harvard  down  on  this 
occasion. 

While  Merriwell  was  surrounded  by  friends  in  the 
smoker,  and  the  boys  were  having  a  decidedly  jolly 
time,  Duncan  Yates  was  getting  into  a  decidedly  ugly 
mood  in  the  adjoining  car. 

When  Yates  thought  of  his  failure  to  beat  his  rival 
in  the  dash  to  the  station  he  ground  his  teeth  and 
muttered  bitter  curses. 

And  he  was  egged  on  by  Fred  Flemming  and  Andy 
Emery.  Tom  Thornton  had  joined  the  group,  but  he 


376  Enemies  at  Work. 

said  very  little,  and,  when  he  found  an  opportunity, 
he  whispered  in  Flemming's  ear: 

"Better  go  slow.  Remember  the  promise  we  gave 
Merriwell.  If  he  finds  out  we  are  working  against 
him,  it  will  go  hard  with  us." 

"He  won't  find  it  out.  I  hate  him  too  much  to  keep 
still  if  I  can  arouse  another  fellow  against  him.  Give 
me  your  flask.  Yates  has  killed  all  I  have  in  mine." 

Thornton  took  a  whiskey  flask  from  his  pocket,  and 
slipped  it  into  Flemming's  hand.  Then  he  left,  for  he 
did  not  wish  Merriwell's  friends  to  see  him  in  such 
company. 

Flemming  and  Emery  made  a  pretense  of  drinking 
with  Yates,  but  they  did  not  take  much.  Yates,  how- 
ever, continued  to  "hit  the  bottle  hard."  His  face  be- 
came flushed,  and  his  eyes  glowed  as  Flemming  con- 
tinued to  tell  him  of  Merriwell's  "underhand  work." 

"That  fellow  did  me  dirt,"  declared  Flemming.  "In 
this  same  sneaking  way,  he  had  me  dropped  from  the 
crew  this  spring,  and  got  on  in  my  place." 

"That's  right,"  agreed  Emery.  "He  has  a  way  of 
influencing  such  men  as  he  can  get  at,  and  he  is  using 
his  influence  to  get  the  committee  to  throw  you  over." 


Enemies  at  Work.  377 

"And  he  can't  run  with  you,  anyway,"  said  Flem- 
ming.  "It  is  possible  that  he  can  lead  you  in  a  short 
dash,  like  the  race  to  the  station  to-day,  but  he  would 
not  be  in  it  in  a  long  run." 

"That  race  was  one  of  his  tricks,"  asserted  Emery. 
"I  believe  the  job  was  put  up  by  him." 

"How?"  asked  Yates,  huskily. 

"Why,  he  saw  you  in  company  with  the  rest  of  us, 
and  he  thought  he  stood  a  good  show  of  outrunning 
you  for  a  short  spurt,  so  he  had  Diamond  and  Rattle- 
ton  make  the  talk  that  they  did  to  bring  the  race 
about." 

"If  that  was  not  crooked,  I  don't  know  what  you 
could  call  it,"  nodded  Flemming.  "He  sprung  it  on 
you  when  you  were  not  suspecting,  and  he  led  you  to 
go  against  him  for  a  short  run,  in  which  he  is  at  his 
best.  All  the  time,  he  knew  he  was  not  your  match 
for  a  long  race.  That  doesn't  make  a  bit  of  difference 
to  him." 

"Not  a  bit,"  said  Andy.  "He  is  not  looking  for  the 
good  of  Old  Yale,  but  he  is  looking  to  get  into  the 
big  race  at  the  tournament.  He  has  been  lucky  in 
everything  he  has  tried,  and  he  is  depending  on  hig 


378  Enemies  at  Work. 

luck  to  win  the  race  and  acquire  further  glory  for  him- 
self." 

"Let's  have  another  drink  all  round/'  suggested 
Flemming,  as  he  produced  Thornton's  flask  once  more. 

Yates  took  several  swallows.  Emery  and  Flem- 
ming pretended  to  drink  in  a  hearty  manner,  but  they 
allowed  very  little  whiskey  to  go  down  their  throats. 

This  drink  seemed  to  be  the  one  that  aroused  Yates 
to  action.  He  suddenly  jumped  to  his  feet,  and  there 
was  a  fierce  look  on  his  face  as  he  cried : 

"Come  on!" 

"What  are  you  going  to  do?"  asked  Flemming, 
quickly  thrusting  the  flask  into  his  pocket. 

"I  am  going  to  find  Frank  Merriwell!"  came 
hoarsely  from  Yates'  lips. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

BASEBALL. 

There  was  a  crush  in  the  rear  end  of  the  smoker.  A 
crowd  had  gathered  there,  and  the  lads  were  sing- 
ing, shouting,  laughing  and  making  merry  in  various 
ways. 

Some  fellows  were  sitting  on  the  backs  of  the  seats. 
The  trainmen  could  not  drive  them  down.  It  was  use- 
less to  try  with  such  a  set  of  lads. 

Danny  Griswold  was  astride  the  shoulders  of  Dismal 
Jones,  who  was  the  only  solemn-looking  man  in  the 
car.  Occasionally  Jones  would  "break  out"  in  his 
peculiar  camp-meeting  revivalist's  style  and  would  de- 
liver fragments  of  a  sermon  on  the  frivolous  things  of 
the  world.  Each  time  he  was  quickly  suppressed,  how- 
ever. 

Into  the  midst  of  this  jolly  crowd  came  a  lad  whose 
face  was  flushed  and  whose  eyes  were  gleaming 
strangely.  His  lips  curled  back  over  his  set  teeth,  and 
he  seemed  to  quiver  with  a  strange  eagerness. 


380  Baseball. 

"Let  me  through!"  he  growled,  forcing  his  way 
along.  "There  is  a  fellow  here  I  want  to  see." 

There  was  something  in  his  voice  that  caused  them 
to  give  him  room  to  advance  till  he  was  standing  di- 
rectly in  front  of  Frank  Merriwell.  Then  his  hands 
clinched,  and,  as  he  tried  to  speak,  he  choked  with 
passion,  so  that  words  failed  him. 

A  sudden  hush  came  over  the  throngi  for  they  saw 
that  there  was  trouble  impending. 

"It's  Yates!" 

Somebody  muttered  the  words,  and  they  seemed  to 
break  the  spell  that  had  fallen  on  the  enraged  lad  who 
was  glaring  at  Frank. 

"Yes,  it  is  Yates!"  he  snarled.  "I  suppose  all  you 
fellows  are  Frank  Merriwell's  chums,  but  that  makes 
no  difference  to  me." 

He  stopped  a  moment,  but  he  did  not  take  his  eyes 
from  Frank's  face.  He  seemed  to  be  gathering  him- 
self for  the  supreme  effort. 

"Merriwell,"  he  said,  his  voice  shaking,  "you  are  a 
sneak!" 

Every  one  expected  Frank  would  leap  to  his  feet 
and  strike  Yates,  but  he  did  nothing  of  the  kind.  The 


Baseball.  381 

hot  blood  rushed  to  his  face,  and  then  fled  away  again, 
leaving  him  cold  and  pale.  About  his  firm  jaws  there 
was  a  sudden  hardening,  and  in  turn  he  showed  his 
teeth. 

"Mr.  Yates,"  he  said,  "you  are  not  complimentary." 

"I  do  not  mean  to  be  to  such  a  fellow  as  you !"  Yates 
shot  back. 

"You  are  insulting!" 

"I  am  if  the  truth  can  be  considered  an  insult." 

"I  demand  an  explanation." 

"I  do  not  propose  to  waste  any  breath  in  giving  ex- 
planations to  such  as  you.  You  know  why  I  say  you 
are  a  sneak — you  know  you  are  a  sneak!" 

Frank  Merriwell  laughed.  That  laugh  was  a  warn- 
ing that  he  was  dangerous.  Diamond  knew  it ;  Rattle- 
ton  knew  it.  They  held  themselves  ready  to  make 
room  when  Frank  Merriwell  saw  fit  to  act. 

"You  put  yourself  in  a  bad  light  by  calling  a  man  a 
sneak  and  then  refusing  to  tell  why  you  call  him  that," 
said  Frank. 

Yates  did  not  know  Merriwell  very  well  and  that 
laugh  had  not  sounded  a  warning  to  him.  Instead,  it 


382  Baseball. 

really  seemed  that  Frank  was  frightened,  and  he  had 
laughed  to  conceal  the  fact. 

"It  is  my  conviction,"  he  cried,  "that  you  are  not 
only  a  sneak,  but  you  are  also  a  coward!  If  that  is 
not  enough,  I  will  make  it  still  more  forcible." 

Quick  as  a  flash,  he  struck  Frank  in  the  face  with 
his  clinched  fist. 

A  gasp  came  from  those  who  witnessed  this  act. 
There  was  no  time  given  for  further  words. 

Like  a  leaping  panther,  Frank  Merriwell  shot  up  and 
alighted  on  Duncan  Yates.  He  clutched  Yates  in  his 
strong  grasp,  snapped  him  off  his  feet,  swung  him  into 
the  air. 

The  spectators  had  fallen  back  in  a  wild  sort  of 
scramble  to  get  out  of  the  way.  Thus  enough  room 
was  made  for  Merriwell  to  act. 

It  was  a  warm  day,  and  the  car  door  was  open.  Al- 
most before  any  one  could  tell  what  Frank  thought 
of  doing,  he  leaped  out  through  the  doorway,  and, 
with  the  lad  who  had  delivered  the  blow  still  poised 
above  his  head,  seemed  on  the  verge  of  hurling  Yates 
from  the  flying  train! 

"Stop,  Frank!" 


Baseball.  383 

Diamond  shouted  the  words. 

Cries  of  horror  broke  from  the  lips  of  the  other 
spectators  of  the  scene,  but,  strangely  enough,  none  of 
them  made  a  move  to  prevent  Merriwell  from  carry- 
ing out  his  apparent  purpose. 

If  Merriwell  flung  Yates  from  the  train  the  un- 
fortunate lad  who  had  aroused  Frank's  wrath  must  be 
instantly  killed. 

At  first,  when  he  had  felt  himself  clutched,  Yates 
had  struggled,  but,  to  his  amazement,  he  seemed  like 
a  child  in  the  grasp  of  the  infuriated  athlete. 

As  Frank  reached  the  platform  and  poised  Yates 
aloft,  the  latter  seemed  to  realize  his  peril,  and  fear 
robbed  him  of  nerve  and  strength.  He  was  limp  and 
helpless  in  Merriwell's  grasp. 

And  then,  almost  as  quickly  as  Frank  had  caught 
the  lad  up,  he  lowered  him  to  his  feet. 

Again  Merriwell  laughed,  but  this  time  there  really 
seemed  to  be  something  of  amusement  in  the  sound. 

"If  I  had  dropped  you  off,  Mr.  Yates,  you  must 
have  been  injured,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  was  soft  and 
gentle, 

Yates  gasped. 


384  Baseball. 

"Jee !"  chattered  Bink  Stubbs.  "That  was  a  regular 
hair-raiser,  as  the  fellow  said  when  he  finished  the 
blood-and-thunder  story." 

Yates  swayed  and  caught  at  the  iron  rail.  The  flush 
had  gone  out  of  his  face,  which  was  ashen-gray. 

"Better  go  into  the  car,"  said  Merriwell.  "You 
seem  rather  unsteady,  and  you  might  fall  off  here." 

Without  a  word,  Yates  steadied  himself  by  taking 
hold  of  the  side  of  the  door,  and  entered  the  car. 

Merriwell  followed,  taking  out  his  handkerchief  and 
pressing  it  lightly  to  the  spot  on  his  cheek  where  a 
slight  bruise  marked  the  spot  that  had  felt  the  enraged 
lad's  fist. 

The  witnesses  of  this  scene  seemed  to  breathe  freely 
for  the  first  time.  They  stared  at  Frank  as  if  his 
marvelous  display  of  strength  had  been  a  revelation  to 
them. 

Yates  had  plenty  of  friends,  as  he  had  never  seemed 
a  bad  sort  of  fellow,  but  the  fact  that  he  had  struck 
Merriwell  while  the  latter  was  sitting  down  was  against 
him. 

"He's  been  drinking,"  one  declared.  "Merriwell 
could  not  have  handled  him  that  way  otherwise." 


Baseball.  385 

"Did  Merriwell  really  mean  to  throw  him  off?"  asked 
another. 

There  were  some  murmurs  of  disapproval  at  Frank's 
action,  but  the  expressions  of  astonishment  and  ad- 
miration for  his  display  of  strength  drowned  all  other 
sounds. 

Yates  turned  and  looked  at  Frank,  but  he  seemed 
unable  to  express  his  feelings  by  means  of  words. 

Jack  Diamond  was  flushed  with  rage. 

"It  would  have  served  the  fellow  right  if  Merriwell 
had  dropped  him  off!"  declared  the  hot-blooded  South- 
erner. 

Andy  Emery  was  near  at  hand,  but  he  had  been  un- 
able to  give  Yates  any  assistance  when  the  latter  was 
grasped  by  Frank. 

"Good  heavens!"  he  kept  repeating,  as  he  stared  at 
Frank  Merriwell  in  a  manner  that  showed  his  unut- 
terable amazement. 

It  was  plain  that  such  a  display  of  strength  had  been 
a  revelation  to  him,  and  from  that  time  Emery  was 
bound  to  regard  Merriwell  with  renewed  respect. 

"Mr.  Yates,"  said  Frank,  quietly,  "this  is  no  place 
to  settle  any  quarrel  that  has  arisen  between  us ;  but  I 


386  Baseball. 

wish  to  say  before  witnesses  that  I  consider  you  en- 
tirely in  the  wrong,  and  certainly  you  owe  me  an 
apology.  You  may  not  think  so  now,  but  I  believe  you 
will  think  so  in  time." 

That  was  all.  He  returned  to  his  seat  and  sat 
down.  Yates  seemed  to  hesitate,  and  then  turned 
away,  accompanied  by  Emery. 

Flemming  had  kept  himself  in  the  background  dur- 
ing the  entire  affair. 

When  the  train  reached  Springfield  Yates  was  in 
no  condition  to  go  to  the  ball  ground.  He  had  taken 
too  much  whiskey  to  carry,  and  his  pretended  friends, 
Flemming  and  Emery,  were  forced  to  get  him  out  of 
sight  as  soon  as  possible. 

"That  ought  to  be  a  settler  for  him,"  said  Diamond. 
"A  fellow  who  is  in  training  for  a  race  can't  afford  to 
get  loaded." 

Yale  men  had  heavily  backed  their  own  club  to  win, 
and  it  seemed  that  the  majority  of  the  Harvard  crew 
was  trying  to  put  money  on  the  blue. 

It  was  expected  by  Harvard  that  Merriwell  would 
pitch  the  deciding  game,  for  the  actual  condition  of  his 


Baseball.  387 

hand  had  been  kept  a  secret,  and  Harvard  feared  Merri' 
well. 

To  himself  Frank  confessed  that  he  could  pitch  the 
game,  as  his  hand  was  in  fairly  good  condition,  but 
such  improvement  had  not  been  expected,  and  it  had 
been  arranged  that  he  should  do  no  "twirling." 

Besides  that,  it  was  Heffiner's  last  game  for  Yale, 
and,  taking  into  consideration  the  record  he  had  made, 
it  seemed  no  more  than  right  that  he  should  be  placed 
in  the  box. 

The  usual  crowd  had  gathered  to  witness  the  game, 
and  there  was  the  usual  display  of  flags.  Yale  was 
over-confident;  Harvard  was  hopeful,  but  filled  with 
fears. 

The  game  began,  and  for  three  innings  Yale  had  the 
advantage.  The  "sons  of  Old  Eli"  were  jubilant,  and 
they  made  the  air  ring  with  their  cheers  and  songs. 

At  the  end  of  the  third  inning  it  was  seen  that  Har- 
vard must  make  a  change  if  it  had  any  hope  of  winning. 
Yedding,  the  great  Cambridge  pitcher,  was  "rocky." 
He  could  not  find  the  plate,  and  he  was  "hammered" 
when  he  did  "get  'em  over." 

Some  Yale  man  with  an  inclination  to  rhyme  had 


388  Baseball. 

composed  some  doggerel  verse,  which  about  twenty 
lads  were  singing  to  some  sort  of  mongrel  tune. 

"Poor  Harvard  she  can  talk — 

(That's  all!) 

At  other  things  she'll  balk; 
We'll  beat  her  in  a  walk — 
Hurrah !  hurrah !  hurrah ! 

"Poor  Harvard's   lost  her  grip— 

(That's  so!) 

She's  let  the  pennant  slip, 
We've  done  her  up  this  trip — 
Hurrah !  hurrah !  hurrah !" 

"It  is  altogether  too  early  in  the  game  to  crow,"  de- 
clared Frank  Merriwell.  "Several  things  may  hap- 
pen before  the  ninth  inning  is  over." 

"Oh,  we've  got  the  game  nailed  solid  now !"  declared 
Bruce  Browning,  in  a  satisfied  way.  "Robinson  will 
be  able  to  get  his  shirts  out  of  soak." 

In  the  fourth  inning  Harvard  sent  a  new  pitcher  into 
the  box.  It  was  Coulter,  who,  as  a  freshman,  had 
pitched  against  Merriwell. 

Coulter  was  nervous  and  rather  wild  at  first,  but 
he  puzzled  the  Yale  men,  who  could  not  hit  him  when 
he  did  get  them  over  the  plate. 

"If  he  steadies  down,  he  will  prove  to  be  a  bad 


Baseball.  389 

man,"  said  Frank,  soberly.  "This  is  his  first  trial  on 
the  regular  team,  and  he  is  not  at  his  best  just  now." 

Yale  secured  one  score  in  the  fourth  inning,  while 
Harvard  retired  with  her  third  whitewash. 

In  the  fifth  there  was  a  change.  Coulter  did  steady 
down  in  a  most  astonishing  manner,  for  he  sent  the 
Yale  men  to  the  bench  in  one-two-three  order. 

That  seemed  to  give  Harvard  new  life,  and,  when 
she  came  to  bat,  she  showed  a  determination  to  do 
something. 

Right  there  was  where  Heffiner  took  a  streak  of 
wildness,  and  Harvard  scored  three  times. 

Coulter  kept  up  his  work  in  the  sixth,  by  allowing 
but  one  short  single  to  be  taken  off  his  delivery,  and 
no  Yale  man  got  further  than  second  base. 

Then  it  seemed  that  Harvard  came  to  the  plate  with 
a  determination  to  "pound  it  out."  The  defenders  of 
the  crimson  jumped  on  Hefrmer's  curves,  and  the  way 
they  banged  the  leather  gave  the  Yale  crowd  symptomr 
of  heart  failure.  A  single,  a  two-bagger  and  a  homer 
in  quick  succession  caused  Heffiner  to  develop  a  bad 
case  of  "rattles,"  and  it  seemed  that  Harvard  would 
never  let  up.  There  was  consternation  in  the  Yale 


390  Baseball. 

ranks  when  Harvard  tied  the  score  with  but  one  man 
out,  and  that  consternation  threatened  to  become  a 
panic  when  two  more  scores  came  in. 

Old  Man  Hicks  was  set  at  work  "warming  up,"  al- 
though it  was  felt  that  he  must  be  a  desperate  resort. 
When  Harvard  scored  again,  Hicks  was  sent  into  the 
box. 

The  change  seemed  to  work  well,  for  Harvard's 
score  getting  was  brought  to  an  abrupt  termination. 

But  Yale  was  in  a  desperate  situation,  for,  at  the  be- 
ginning of  the  seventh,  Harvard  was  three  scores  in 
the  lead. 

Merriwell  had  been  on  the  point  of  going  down  and 
offering  to  do  what  he  could  to  check  Harvard's  wild 
career,  but  it  seemed  that  Old  Man  Hicks  had  done 
that,  and  so  he  sat  still. 

But  Yale  could  not  score.  Coulter  seemed  to  feel 
that  the  opportunity  of  his  life  had  arrived,  and  he 
sent  the  Spalding's  over  the  plate  with  all  sorts  of 
twists.  The  Yale  men  could  not  make  fair  and  satis- 
factory connections  with  the  ball,  so  no  man  reached 
home. 

Hicks  was  lucky,  and  he  succeeded  in  scattering  the 


Baseball.  391 

hits,  which,  with  fine  support,  enabled  him  to  retire 
Harvard  with  another  goose's  egg. 

The  eighth  inning  was  disastrous  for  the  blue,  al- 
though Yale  won  a  score  by  hard  base  running.  When 
Harvard  took  her  turn,  she  seemed  to  fathom  Dad 
Hicks'  delivery,  and,  for  a  short  time,  he  was  treated 
quite  as  bad  as  Heffiner  had  been.  At  the  end  of  the 
eighth  inning  Harvard  was  six  scores  ahead,  and  it 
was  plain  that  the  game  was  lost  for  Yale. 

Scores  of  sad-faced  Yale  spectators  were  heard  ex- 
pressing regret  that  Frank  Merriwell  had  not  been  used 
in  the  game.  Some  of  the  wearers  of  the  blue  left  the 
field  immediately,  unwilling  to  witness  the  termination 
of  the  game. 

With  despair  set  upon  their  faces,  the  Yale  men  went 
to  the  bat,  ready  to  fight  to  the  last  gasp.  But  Coulter 
was  also  determined  not  to  let  slip  any  of  the  glory  he 
had  won,  and  all  Yale's  efforts  to  score  were  fruitless. 
The  game  ended  with  Harvard  still  six  in  the  lead. 

Phil  Coulter  was  the  hero  of  Harvard  that  night, 
while  poor  Hugh  Heffiner  returned  to  New  Haven 
with  his  heart  almost  bursting  with  disappointment 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

KIDNAPED. 

"We'll  down  Harvard  in  everything  at  the  tourna- 
ment," was  the  angry  resolve  of  the  disappointed  Yale 
crowd,  who  returned  to  New  Haven  to  find  no  band 
and  no  great  gathering  of  cheering  students  awaiting 
them  at  the  station. 

Among  them  all,  not  excepting  Hugh  Heffiner  him- 
self, no  one  felt  worse  about  the  defeat  than  did  Frank 
Merriwell.  In  his  heart,  he  blamed  himself  for  not  go- 
ing to  the  manager  of  the  Yale  team  and  offering  his 
services  in  case  of  emergency.  He  knew  it  was  pos- 
sible he  might  not  have  been  able  to  save  the  game,  but 
still  the  possibility  that  he  might  have  done  so  bore 
heavily  upon  him. 

But  Frank  did  not  dream  that  his  enemies  would 
make  capital  out  of  the  fact  that  he  had  not  taken  any 
part  in  the  game.  He  did  not  know  they  were  saying 
he  had  kept  among  the  spectators  where  he  could  not 
be  found  when  things  seemed  to  turn  against  Yale. 


Kidnaped.  393 

"Merriwell  didn't  dare  pitch  any  part  of  that  game," 
they  were  saying.  "He  was  afraid,  and  he  knew  it 
would  dim  his  glory  if  Harvard  won.  He  has  his 
record,  and  you  won't  see  him  pitching  out  any  games 
in  order  to  pull  Yale  out  of  a  hole." 

But  Yates  had  ruined  his  chance  of  running  in  the 
mile  race  at  the  tournament  by  getting  full  on  the  train. 
Directly  after  the  next  meeting  of  the  committee  of 
arrangements,  Frank  was  notified  that  he  had  been 
chosen  to  represent  Yale. 

Each  night  Frank  took  a  run  out  into  the  country. 
He  was  determined  to  put  himself  in  the  very  best  con- 
dition possible. 

This  practice  of  Merriwell's  was  generally  known, 
and  he  was  watched  with  interest  by  friends  and  foes. 

The  time  for  the  tournament  drew  near.  Arrange- 
ments for  all  the  contests  had  been  completed.  The 
end  of  the  spring  terms  had  come.  Commencement 
was  over,  and  another  class  had  been  showered  with 
sheepskins. 

In  all  the  doings  of  this  busy  time  of  the  college  year 
Merriwell  took  little  part,  as  he  was  putting  himself 
in  shape  to  do  his  best  at  the  tournament,  and  the  time 


394  Kidnaped. 

he  had  to  spare  from  "grinding"  was  given  to  hard 
physical  work. 

Then  he  went  down  to  a  summer  cottage  on  the 
sound.  The  cottage  was  located  near  Southport,  and 
there  he  continued  his  training,  taking  long  runs  into 
the  country. 

The  day  before  the  great  tournament  came  at  last. 
That  afternoon  Frank  took  his  last  run  in  training.  He 
waited  till  near  evening,  and  then  jogged  gently  out 
along  the  country  road. 

It  was  dusk  when  he  turned  back  toward  the  cottage 
where  he  knew  Bruce  Browning,  Rattleton  and  Dia- 
mond were  loafing  on  the  veranda  and  awaiting  his  re- 
appearance. 

As  he  was  passing  through  a  small  patch  of  woods, 
a  cord  that«was  strung  across  the  road,  about  six  inches 
from  the  ground,  tripped  him,  and  he  fell  heavily. 

Frank  was  stunned  by  the  shock.  Before  he  could 
recover,  dark  forms  rushed  out  and  flung  themselves 
upon  him. 

Frank  realized  that  he  had  been  attacked,  and  he 
tried  to  make  a  fight  ot  it,  but  the  shock  of  the  fall  had 


Kidnaped.  395 

taken  away  his  strength,  and  then  he  found  there  were 
three  against  him. 

"Work  lively!"  growled  a  hoarse  voice.  "He's 
worse  than  a  tiger  in  a  scrap!" 

His  hands  were  twisted  about  behind  his  back  and 
held  there,  while  a  cord  was  bound  about  them.  In  a 
remarkably  brief  space  of  time  he  was  rendered  help- 
less. 

Then  Frank's  feet  were  bound,  and  he  was  forced 
to  submit  to  the  tying  of  a  blindfold  over  his  eyes.  Be- 
fore this  was  accomplished,  however,  he  saw  the  three 
men  through  the  gloom,  and  discovered  that  all  wore 
masks  to  hide  their  faces. 

When  Frank  was  blindfolded,  the  man  who  had 
given  all  the  commands,  and  who  seemed  to  be  the 
leader,  said: 

"Bring  out  the  team." 

Frank's  ears  told  him  that  one  of  the  men  went 
away,  and  soon,  by  the  sound,  the  boy  decided  that  a 
team  was  being  brought  from  some  place  in  the  woods, 
where  it  had  been  concealed. 

"What  sort  of  a  job  is  this?"  thought  the  captive 
lad.  "It  seems  to  be  a  case  of  real  highwaymen  right 


396  Kidnaped. 

here  in  Connecticut.  And  still  they  do  not  seem  like 
highwaymen,  for  then  they  would  have  robbed  me  and 
let  me  go.  They  are  up  to  something  else." 

He  soon  found  that  his  captors  meant  to  remove  him 
from  the  spot,  for  he  was  lifted  from  the  ground  and 
tossed  into  the  bottom  of  the  wagon,  like  a  sack  of 
grain.  Then  the  men  climbed  in,  the  horses  were 
whipped  up,  and  away  they  all  went. 

After  a  drive  of  at  least  two  hours,  during  which 
Frank  had  several  times  asked  where  they  were  taking 
him,  and  had  been  repeatedly  cautioned  to  "shut  up," 
the  team  came  to  a  halt. 

Frank  was  glad  of  it,  for  much  of  the  distance  had 
been  made  over  rough  roads^  and  he  had  been  several 
times  menaced  in  order  to  keep  him  quiet,  and  once 
choked  into  silence  by  two  of  the  men,  who  sat  upon 
him  while  they  passed  another  team. 

Frank  was  taken  from  the  wagon,  his  feet  were  set 
at  liberty,  and  he  was  marched  into  some  sort  of  a 
building. 

"There,"  said  the  hoarse  voice  of  the  leader.  "He's 
safe  and  solid  here." 


Kidnaped.  397 

Through  the  blindfold  there  was  a  glow  of  light,  and 
then  the  cloth  was  removed  from  his  eyes. 

Frank  found  himself  in  a  rough  room,  to  which 
there  seemed  to  be  no  windows  and  but  one  door.  In 
the  room  there  was  a  table,  a  broken  chair,  and  a  rude 
sort  of  bed. 

One  of  the  two  men  who  had  brought  him  into  the 
room  coolly  sat  down  astride  the  chair,  and  stared  at 
Frank,  his  eyes  gleaming  by  the  flaring  light  of  the 
tallow-dip  that  burned  on  the  table. 

"Set  down,"  invited  the  man,  making  a  motion  to- 
ward the  bed.  "We  offer  our  visitors  the  upholstered 
furniture  out  of  courtesy.  Make  yourself  at  home." 

"Don't  care  if  I  do,"  returned  the  boy^  with  equal 
coolness,  "but  in  order  for  me  to  be  thoroughly  com- 
fortable, it  -will  be  necessary  for  me  to  have  my  hands 
free." 

"Sorry  I  can't  accommodate  ye  just  now,  but  I  want 
to  have  a  talk  with  yer  first.  Set  down." 

Frank  obeyed. 

"Well,"  he  observed,  "I  suppose  I  might  as  well,  as 
long  as  I  do  not  seem  to  have  much  to  say  about  it; 
but  I'd  like  to  know  what  this  little  game  is." 


39$  Kidnaped. 

"Thought  you'd  be  kinder  curious,"  said  the  man, 
with  a  hoarse  laugh.  "Well,  ye  see,  it's  this  way. 
We've  heard  so  much  about  you  that  we  thought  we'd 
kinder  like  the  pleasure  of  your  company  for  a  day  or 
two,  and  so  we  brought  you  over  here." 

A  day  or  two!  Frank  gasped  for  breath,  as  a  sud- 
den light  dawned  upon  him. 

If  he  were  held  there  for  a  single  day  he  would  not 
appear  at  Madison  Square  Garden  to  take  part  in  the 
tournament ! 

"This  is  the  work  of  my  enemies !"  he  mentally  cried. 
"They  have  hired  these  ruffians  to  kidnap  and  hold  me 
till  the  tournament  is  over!  Caesar's  ghost!  I  never 
dreamed  such  a  thing  could  be  done  in  this  quiet  part 
of  the  New  England  States!" 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

THE     TOURNAMENT, 

The  interior  of  Madison  Square  Garden  was  dec- 
orated with  the  colors  of  a  dozen  colleges,  and  was 
aglow  with  hundreds  of  bright  lights.  The  rows  of 
seats,  tier  upon  tier,  were  packed  with  people.  The 
private  boxes  were  all  taken.  A  band  was  playing  a 
lively  air,  and  the  tournament  was  on.  Down  in  the 
great  cleared  space  young  men  from  the  various  prom- 
inent colleges  of  the  country  were  struggling  for  vic- 
tory in  the  athletic  feats  on  the  programme.  At  times 
some  well-known  amateur  contestant  was  greeted  by 
cheers  as  he  appeared  or  accomplished  a  feat  that  was 
plainly  remarkable.  The  favorites  were  greeted  by  the 
yells  of  the  colleges  which  they  represented,  as  they 
were  seen  preparing  for  some  difficult  attempt. 

It  was  a  scene  of  the  greatest  excitement  and  en- 
thusiasm. Pretty  girls  were  there  in  large  numbers, 
their  faces  glowing  with  admiration  for  the  young 
men  who  were  struggling  like  gladiators  down  in  the 


40O  The  Tournament. 

modern  arena.  The  swell  set  of  New  York  occupied 
the  boxes.  Fathers  and  mothers,  sisters  and  brothers, 
cousins  and  aunts  of  the  contestants  were  on  hand, 
watching  with  eagerness  for  the  appearance  of  those  in 
which  their  interest  centered. 

In  some  instances  the  parents  of  the  young  men  en- 
gaged in  the  contests  were  plainly  from  the  country. 
Their  manners,  their  dress,  their  language  indicated 
this.  It  was  a  wonderful  occasion  for  them,  and  their 
hearts  almost  ceased  beating  when  the  favorite  for 
whom  they  were  watching  showed  himself  and  made 
his  brave  effort  in  some  trial  of  strength  and  skill. 
Happy  were  they  if  he  acquitted  himself  nobly. 

The  blue  of  Old  Yale  dominated  one  great  section 
of  seats.  And  when  a  Yale  man  won  in  some  of  the 
contests  hundreds  upon  hundreds  of  strong-lunged 
young  men  arose  to  their  feet  and  sent  the  college  slo- 
gan pealing  forth,  while  that  great  mass  of  blue  flut- 
tered and  swayed  as  if  swept  by  a  fitful  tempest. 

It  was  Yale  against  the  field,  and  Old  Eli  was  ac- 
quitting herself  nobly. 

One  of  the  private  boxes  was  occupied  by  the  Hon. 
Andrew  Flemming  and  his  family.  His  wife  and  his 


The  Tournament.  401 

two  daughters  were  there.  In  a  corner  of  the  box  sat 
two  lads  who  were  talking  earnestly  in  guarded  tones. 
They  were  Tom  Thornton  and  Andy  Emery. 

Thornton  and  Emery  had  been  entertaining  Fred 
Flemming's  sisters,  but  now,  for  the  moment,  they  had 
drawn  aside  and  were  earnestly  discussing  some  point 
that  seemed  to  interest  them  greatly. 

"It  must  be  that  the  matter  is  settled,  and  Yates  has 
been  substituted  for  the  one  who  is  missing,"  said 
Thornton;  "but  it  seems  rather  astonishing  that  Flem 
should  be  so  sure  Merriwell  would  not  appear." 

"But  he  did  seem  sure,"  nodded  Emery.  "He  told 
me  over  and  over  that  Merriwell  would  not  be  here  to 
run." 

"And  you  must  know  enough  of  Frank  Merriwell 
to  be  sure  he  would  be  here  if  he  could  get  here,  even 
if  he  had  to  crawl  on  his  knees." 

"That's  right." 

"Then  what  has  happened  to  Merriwell?" 

"You  tell!" 

"I  can't.  I  know  Flemming  would  go  to  any  ex- 
treme to  carry  out  his  desires.  In  fact,  he  is  alto- 
gether too  reckless  and  headstrong.  I  knew  he  did 


402  The  Tournament. 

not  mean  it  when  he  told  Merriwell  he  was  ready  to 
bury  the  hatchet,  and  I  have  felt  that  he  was  not  talk- 
ing to  hear  his  own  voice  when  he  told  us  Merriwell 
would  not  be  on  hand  to  race  to-night." 

At  this  moment  Fred  Flemming  entered  the  box. 
His  face  was  flushed,  and  there  was  a  look  of  triumph 
in  his  eyes.  He  spoke  to  his  mother,  and  then  ad- 
dressed himself  to  the  two  boys,  saying : 

"It's  all  right." 

Some  event  below  attracted  the  full  attention  of  all 
in  the  box  save  the  trio  in  one  corner. 

"Yates  will  run?"  asked  Emery,  eagerly. 

"You  bet  your  filthy!"  nodded  Fred.  "I  told  you 
he  would." 

"But  where  is  Merriwell  ?" 

Flemming  smiled  mysteriously. 

"It  is  evident,"  he  said,  "that  Mr.  Merriwell  de- 
cided not  to  attend  the  tournament." 

"Look  here,  Fred,"  said  Thornton,  nervously,  "you 
haven't  done  anything  that  will  get  you  into  trouble, 
have  you?" 

Flemming  snapped  his  fingers. 

"What  is  it  to  me  if  Merriwell  sees  fit  to  stay  away  ?" 


The  Tournament.  403 

he  asked.  "He  may  tell  some  sort  of  a  wild  story, 
but  it  seems  that  he  was  afraid  to  appear  and  run.  All 
I  ask  of  you  fellows  is  that  you  keep  your  mouths 
closed  on  one  point." 

"What  is  that?" 

"I  don't  care  to  have  you  breathe  to  a  living  soul 
that  I  knew  in  advance  that  Merriwell  would  not  be 
on  hand." 

"We'll  not  say  a  word  about  it." 

"Yates  had  no  idea  that  he  might  be  called  on.  I 
found  it  accessary  to  keep  with  him  all  the  time  and 
see  that  he  did  not  get  geared  up.  Then  I  had  him 
where  he  could  be  found  by  the  committee  in  case  he 
was  needed."  * 

"And " 

"And  he  was  found." 

"He  has  gone  to  prepare  for  the  race?" 

"Sure." 

"That  settles  it!     Merriwell  has  failed  to  show  up!" 

A  wild  Yale  cheer  turned  their  attention  to  the  arena 
at  this  moment.  Big  Hickok  was  preparing  to  put  the 
shot,  and  he  had  been  greeted  in  this  manner  by  his  ad- 
mirers as  he  stepped  out. 


404  The  Tournament. 

Hickok  was  a  giant,  and  Yale  had  the  utmost  confi- 
dence in  him.  Thus  far  the  best  record  made  by  any 
other  man  was  forty-one  feet  and  five  inches.  Hickok 
must  do  his  very  best  to  beat  that. 

The  cheers  died  away  as  the  Yale  Goliath  poised  him- 
self for  the  effort.  He  crouched,  and  then  the  heavy 
iron  sailed  through  the  air  and  fell  with  a  thud  to  the 
ground. 

The  tape  was  quickly  drawn,  and  then  the  score 
went  up. 

Forty-two  feet  and  three  inches ! 

Once  more  Yale  let  herself  loose,  and  it  seemed  that 
the  roof  must  crack. 

Hickok  quietly  declined  to  take  the  two  remaining 
trials  open  to  him.  He  was  the  last  man  on  the  list, 
and  Yale  had  won.  The  hammer-throwing  was  to 
follow,  and  he  was  entered  for  the  contest. 

In  the  hammer-throwing  contest  Yale  had  another 
opportunity  to  yelli  for  Hickok  was  again  the  winner 
over  all  others,  making  a  record  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty-three  feet  and  nine  inches. 

The  contests  followed  each  other  in  swift  succes- 
sion, and  Yale  more  than  held  her  own.  There  was 


The  Tournament.  405 

no  reason  why  the  wearers  of  the  blue  should  not  be 
jubilant. 

At  last,  the  races  came  on.  Up  in  the  Flemming 
box  were  three  lads  who  were  anxiously  awaiting  the 
announcement  of  the  one-mile  run. 

Despite  the  triumph  which  he  felt,  Fred  Flemming 
betrayed  a  sort  of  hilarious  nervousness  as  he  chatted 
with  his  sisters  and  his  friends. 

Watching  Fred  closely,  Tom  Thornton  saw  that 
he  was  under  a  strain.  And  again  Thornton  won- 
dered what  had  become  of  Frank  Merriwell. 

Princeton  won  one  of  the  shorter  races,  and  Har- 
vard won  another.  In  each  of  these  a  Yale  man  was 
second. 

"If  Mr.  Merriwell  had  contented  himself  with  being 
less  ambitious,  he  might  be  here  to-night,"  said  Flem- 
ming, in  an  aside  to  his  college  comrades. 

Emery  and  Thornton  exchanged  glances.  There 
was  a  significance  about  such  language  that  could  not 
be  misunderstood.  Thornton  shivered  a  bit,  and,  un- 
consciously, drew  back  from  Flemming. 

The  excitement  of  the  evening  was  at  its  highest 
pitch  thus  far.  The  contestants  for  yet  another  race 


406  The  Tournament. 

were  getting  into  position,  and,  in  another  moment, 
they  were  off  like  a  pack  of  greyhounds. 

This  time  a  Yale  man  carried  his  colors  to  victory, 
and  the  "Sons  of  Old  Eli"  yelled  their  approval  and 
delight.  Yale  was  doing  nobly.  This  night  she  was 
making  a  record  for  herself  that  would  be  remembered. 

But  now  came  the  greatest  race  of  all — the  mile  run. 
Preparations  were  made  for  it,  and  feverish  anticipa- 
tion swayed  the  great  multitude. 

Fred  Flemming  was  literally  quivering  as  he  leaned 
over  the  rail  of  the  box. 

"Let's  give  Yatsie  a  great  send-off!"  he  exclaimed. 
"They  are  coming  out  in  a  minute." 

He  was  watching  the  point  where  the  runners  must 
first  appear.  His  hand  shook  on  the  rail. 

The  runners  appeared.  The  first  was  Beatty,  the 
Harvard  man,  and  the  Harvard  crowd  "hoo-rahed" 
hoarsely.  Then  came  Mansford,  of  Princeton,  and  the 
Tigers  let  themselves  loose.  Jetting,  of  Dartmouth, 
followed,  and  the  New  Hampshire  lads  greeted  him  in 
a  manner  that  brought  the  blood  to  his  cheeks.  Then 
little  Judd,  the  U.  P.  man,  trotted  outs  and  he  was  re- 
ceived with  howls  of  delight  from  the  Quakers. 


The  Tournament.  407 

"Now — now  comes  Yates!"  cried  Fred  Flemming. 

The  Yale  man  appeared,  and  Flemming  stood  up 
to  cheer.  He  dropped  into  his  seat  as  if  he  had  been 
shot,  his  face  turning  ashen  gray,  and  the  cheer  dying 
on  his  lips. 

"Good  heavens!"  gasped  Tom  Thornton.  "It  is 
Frank  Merriwell!" 

But  his  exclamation  was  drowned  by  the  mighty 
cheer  which  greeted  the  appearance  of  the  Yale  stand- 
ard-bearer. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

TO  VICTORY — CONCLUSION. 

"Merriwell !     Merriwell !     'Rah !  'rah !  'rah !" 

It  was  a  mighty  roar  of  voices.  Then  came  the 
well-known  Yale  yell,  which  was  repeated  again  and 
again.  The  entire  Yale  crowd  was  standing,  wildly 
waving1  hands,  hats,  flags,  handkerchiefs,  anything  and 
everything  that  could  be  found  to  wave.  It  was  an 
ovation  that  might  have  gladdened  the  heart  of  an 
emperor. 

It  was  not  strange  that  the  sound  nerved  the  Yale 
man  to  vow  within  himself  to  die  in  the  effort  to  win 
for  dear  "Old  Eli,"  if  he  could  not  win  otherwise. 

But  up  in  one  of  the  boxes  not  far  from  the  starting 
point  were  three  young  men  who  were  utterly  over- 
come with  amazement  and  consternation.  One  of 
them  had  a  face  that  was  drawn  and  pale,  as  if  he  had 
received  a  mortal  wound. 

"What's  it  meanj  Flem?"  asked  Andy  Emery,  in 


To  Victory — Conclusion.  409 

Fred's  ear.  "Merriwell  is  here !  Have  you  been  hors- 
ing us?" 

Then,  for  all  that  his  parents  and  his  sisters  were 
present,  Fred  Flemming  ground  out  a  bitter  cry.  His 
voice  shook  and  he  choked,  as  he  answered : 

"You  know  as  well  as  I  what  it  means!  Oh,  what 
luck!" 

He  was  utterly  unmanned,  and  his  mother,  observ- 
ing his  pallor,  asked  him  if  he  had  been  suddenly  taken 

ill.     He  answered  her  with  a  snarl,  like  a  mad  dog. 
< 

The  five  runners  came  down  to  the  line.  Just  as 
they  did  so,  Duncan  Yates  burst  into  the  Flemming 
box. 

"What  sort  of  a  jolly  business  is  this,  Flemming?" 
he  demanded,  his  face  pale  with  anger. 

And  then,  seeing  there  were  ladies  present,  he  re- 
moved his  cap  and  mumbled  an  apology. 

Fred  did  not  introduce  Yates;  he  was  too  much 
broken  up  to  think  of  such  a  thing. 

"That's  what  I'd  like  to  know/'  he  said,  helplessly. 
"You  know  we  were  told  Merriwell  was  not  on  hand 
to  run." 

"But  he  showed  up  in  time  to  dress,  and  I  was  coolly 


410  To  Victory — Conclusion. 

informed  that  I  wasn't  in  it.  I  object  to  such  treat- 
ment, and  I  want  to  know  if  it  was  a  job  on  me." 

"If  it  was  a  job,  I'll  give  you  my  word  I  know  noth- 
ing about  it,"  said  Fred,  in  a  weak  and  humble 
manner. 

At  this  moment,  as  they  looked  down,  Frank  Merri- 
well  was  seen  to  gaze  straight  toward  them,  and  some- 
thing like  a  scornful,  triumphant  smile  flitted  across 
his  face. 

"I'd  like  to  strangle  him !"  grated  Flemming. 

The  runners  were  preparing  for  the  start.  Pistol  in 
hand,  the  starter  stood  ready  to  give  the  signal.  His 
voice  was  heard  bidding  them  make  ready. 

A  moment  later,  the  pistol  cracked,  and  the  runners 
leaped  away. 

"Oh,  if  he'll  come  in  the  tail-ender!"  panted  Fred 
Flemming. 

The  band  was  playing  its  liveliest  ai^  and  the  run- 
ners sped  around  the  track  like  fawns.  Graceful  fel- 
lows they  were,  with  the  possible  exception  of  little 
Judd.  Judd  started  off  bravely,  however,  seeming  to 
scoot  into  the  lead  like  a  squirrel,  his  short  legs  fairly 
twinkling. 


To  Victory — Conclusion.  411 

The  U.  P  crowd  let  out  a  great  cheer  to  encourage 
the  little  fellow. 

Beatty,  of  Harvard,  was  likewise  a  quick  starter,  and 
he  was  right  at  Judd's  heels,  while  Mansford  and  Mer- 
riwell  got  away  side  by  side.  Jetting,  the  Dartmouth 
representative,  was  slow  about  starting,  but  still  he 
was  a  runner. 

It  had  been  expected  that  other  colleges  would  take 
part  in  this  race,  but,  for  certain  reasonst  there  were  but 
five  starters. 

Around  the  track  ran  the  lithe-limbed  youngsters, 
with  Judd  holding  the  lead  for  two  laps.  Then  he 
was  passed  by  Beatty,  who  spurted  to  get  to  the  front, 
and  this  gave  Harvard  an  opportunity  to  "hoo-rah." 

From  the  very  outset  it  seemed  that  Merriwell  and 
Mansford  were  in  for  a  neck-and-neck  match.  They 
clung  together  in  a  singular  manner. 

For  a  time  the  five  runners  were  well  bunched,  but 
there  came  a  stringing  out  at  last.  Little  Judd  began 
to  lag,  and  Jetting,  who  had  pushed  past  Merriwell 
and  Mansford,  went  by  the  U.  P.  man  and  began  to 
crowd  Beatty. 

The  New  Hampshire  boys  cheered  him  on,  and  the 


412  To  Victory — Conclusion. 

sound  of  the  yell  he  loved  to  hear  got  into  his  head  and 
worked  his  undoing.  Otherwise  Jetting  must  have 
been  a  dangerous  man  for  the  leaders  at  the  finish.  As 
it  was,  he  pumped  himself  out  some  seconds  too  soon. 

At  the  first  quarter  Harvard  led,  and  she  was  still 
leading,  with  Dartmouth  second^  when  the  first  half 
was  passed. 

Then  came  a  fierce  struggle  for  the  lead,  which  ended 
with  the  weakening  of  both  Beatty  and  Jetting.  Beatty 
weakened  first,  however,  and  fell  back,  but  Jetting  was 
seen  to  stagger  a  bit,  recover  and  go  on. 

Merriwell  and  Mansford  passed  Beatty  and  nar- 
rowed the  gap  between  them  and  Jetting.  Mansford 
set  his  teeth  and  gained  an  advantage  of  ten  feet  by  a 
quick  break.  This  advantage  he  was  resolved  to  hold. 

Jetting  fought  like  a  tiger  to  hold  the  lead,  but 
Mansford  crowded  him  harder  and  harder,  finally  going 
to  the  front 

Then  came  a  desperate  struggle  between  Merriwell 
and  Jetting,  but  Yale's  colors  were  carried  into  second 
place  at  the  beginning  of  the  last  quarter. 

And  now — now  there  was  excitement.     The  finish 


To  Victory— Conclusion.  413 

was  drawing  near,  and  Princeton  had  the  lead,  although 
the  distance  was  short. 

As  Frank  passed  the  Yale  crowd  he  was  given  a  rous- 
ing cheer,  which  seemed  to  put  fresh  life  and  strength 
into  his  body.  He  crept  up  on  Mansford,  who  was 
running  like  the  wind.  The  difference  grew  less  and 
less.  Eight  feetj  six  feet,  four  feet — could  he  close 
the  gap?" 

Then,  for  a  moment,  a  black  cloud  seemed  to  pass- 
before  Frank's  eyes.  His  heart  was  in  his  mouth, 
where  it  lay  hot  and  dry,  like  a  stone  that  has  baked 
in  the  sun.  It  seemed  that  he  must  fall. 

"Win  or  die !  win  or  die !" 

Those  words  rang  through  his  head  as  if  some  one 
had  shouted  them  into  his  ear. 

"I  will!" 

He  knew  the  end  was  close  at  hand,  and  still  the 
black  and  yellow  was  before  him. 

Then  it  was  that  Frank  nerved  himself  for  one 
last  great  effort,  and  dashed  forward  with  a  fresh  burst 
of  speed  that  seemed  little  short  of  marvelous.  That 
burst  carried  him  to  Mansford's  side — carried  him 


414  To  Victory — Conclusion. 

into  the  lead — carried  him  over  the  line  at  the  finish 
— a  winner! 

There  was  a  grand  supper  in  New  York  that  night, 
at  which  Frank  Merriwell  was  the  guest  of  honor. 
He  was  toasted  again  and  again  by  his  admiring 
friends,  and  it  seemed  that  everybody  was  his  friend 
at  last.  There  were  speeches  and  songs  and  a  general 
merry  time.  Old  Yale  had  carved  her  way  to  glory 
once  more,  and  among  her  standard-bearers  Merriwell 
was  the  leader. 

"Tell  us,  tell  us,  old  man,"  cried  Paul  Pierson,  "how 
was  it  that  you  happened  to  be  so  late  in  appearing  at 
the  garden?  Really  we  had  given  up  hope  that  you 
would  come2  and  were  for  getting  Yates  into  running 
rig.  You  barely  got  along  in  time.  What  kept  you 
away  ?" 

"I  was  unavoidably  detained,"  answered  Frank, 
smiling. 

"Yes,  but  that  is  an  unsatisfactory  explanation. 
Rattleton  and  the  fellows  who  were  with  you  reported 
your  mysterious  disappearance,  and  we  were  for  put- 
ting detectives  on  the  case  to-morrow.  Can't  you  clear 
up  the  mystery?"  / 


To  Victory — Conclusion.  415 

"Well,  you  see,  it  is  like  this:  I  fell  in  with  some 
gentlemen  who  seemed  to  take  a  strong  interest  in  me. 
Note  the  word  strong  there.  In  fact  they  were  too 
strong  for  me.  They  seemed  to  like  me  exceedingly 
well,  and  they  pressed  me  to  stay  all  night  with  them. 
I  was  sort  of  roped  into  it,  as  it  were.  I  found  it  diffi- 
cult to  get  away  without  wounding  their  feelings." 

This  was  said  in  a  queer  manner,  and  the  lads  about 
the  table  looked  at  each  other  inquiringly. 

"But  you  managed  to  get  away?"  said  Pierson. 

"Yes,  I  offered  them  inducements  in  the  shape  of 
coin  of  the  realm.  They  seemed  to  be  out  for  stuff, 
and  some  person,  who  must  love  me  dearly — had  in- 
duced them  to  take  charge  of  me  and  care  for  me  ten- 
derly. However,  I  worked  on  their  greed  by  offer- 
ing more  than  my  friend  had  offered,  and,  as  I  prom- 
ised not  to  make  too  much  of  a  fuss  about  it,  I  was 
let  off,  but  barely  in  time  to  reach  here.  I  am  not 
going  to  say  anything  more  about  this  matter  just 
now,  but  I  expect  to  look  around  some  and  find  out 
who  my  friend  is  who  engaged  the  gentlemen  to  care 
for  me  so  tenderly.  When  I  find  him— well,  I  won't 
do  a  thing  to  him !" 


4i 6  To  Victory — Conclusion. 

"Well,  here's  luck  to  you!"  cried  Pierson,  lifting  his 
glass.  "Gentlemen,  here's  luck  to  Frank  Merriwell, 
the  best  all-around  man  who  ever  called  dear  Old  Yale 
alma  mater.  Drink — drink  hearty!" 

A  few  words  more  and  we  will  bring  this  story  to  a 
close. 

Frank  was  truly  the  hero  of  the  college,  and  it  was 
many  a  day  before  his  wonderful  dash  was  forgotten 
by  even  the  most  indifferent  of  the  students. 


THE   END. 


"BEST  OF  ALL  BOYS'  BOOKS " 
THE  FAMOUS 

Frank  Merriwell  Stories 

By  BURT  L.  STANDISH 

No  modern  series  of  tales  for  boys  and  youths  has 
met  with  anything  like  the  cordial  reception  and  popu- 
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There  must  be  a  reason  for  this  and  there  is.  Frank 
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Merriwell' s  example  is  a  shining  light  for  every  ambitious 
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Prank  Merriwell's  School  Days  Frank  Merriwell's  Skill 

Frank  Merriwell's  Chums  Frank  Merriwell's  Champions 

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Frank  Merriwell's  Trip  West  Frank  Merriwell's  Secret 

Frank  Merriwell  Down  South  Frank  Memwell's  Loyalty 

Frank  Merriwell's  Bravery  Frank  Merriwell's  Reward 

Frank  Merriwell's  Races  Frank  Merriwell's  Faith 
Frank  Merriwell's  Hunting  Tour  Frank  Merriwell's  Victories 

Frank  Merriwell's  Sports  Afield  Frank  Merriwell's  Power 

Frank  Merriwell  at  Yale  Frank  Merriwell's  Set-Back 

Frank  Merriwell's  Courage  Frank  Merriwell's  False  Friend 

Frank  Merriwell's  Daring  Frank  Merriwell's  Brother 

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THE  MOTOR  POWER  SERIES 

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V 

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BOB  STEELE  IN  STRANGE  WATERS 

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INTO  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

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ON  TO  QUEBEC.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

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THE  YOUNG  AMBASSADOR.    By  John  De  Morgan. 

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